Just then, Madge strolled over wearing my nightgown, the red marks on her neck obscenely vivid.
"Come on, sis, stop making a scene."
"Everard's being perfectly reasonable. You've been living here rent-free all this time. Now that you want to leave, paying back what you owe is only fair, isn't it?"
She rubbed her flat stomach with deliberate slowness. "Oh, right. You know the reason your three babies never made it? Bad luck. You can't pin that on Everard."
I stared at her, unblinking.
This was the woman who drove my mother to her death and stole her ashes. Who took my husband, seized the Pruitt family fortune, and now twisted the knife deeper into my heart.
Everard patted Madge's hand, his eyes dripping with affection.
"That's enough, babe. Otherwise a certain rabid dog might start biting again."
When he turned to me, the warmth vanished. Ice replaced it.
"Iris, I'm giving you one last chance."
"Stay. Keep taking care of me and Madge. Once the baby's born, I'll write off your debt and let you keep a roof over your head."
"Otherwise, I'll see you in court."
I looked at the two of them standing there, and something inside me went still.