And he had taken the money from my grandmother's heirloom and bought Davina a handbag.
A savage pain tore through my chest. My fingers shook so violently that the receipt crumpled into a ball in my grip.
"What do you think you're doing!"
Davina's shrill voice sliced through the air behind me.
She stormed over, snatched the bag out of my hands, and inspected every inch of it.
Then she jabbed her finger at a tiny scratch on the bottom and screamed in my face. "Are you blind? Otto bought this with the very first profit his company ever made. It's a milestone gift! And you scratched it! You pathetic, bottom-of-the-barrel nobody. You're just jealous of me, aren't you?"
I straightened to my full height and met her eyes, cold and level.
"That scratch is old. The edges are already oxidized. I didn't do it."
"You dare talk back to me!" Davina raised her hand and swung it at my face.
I caught her wrist mid-air and shoved.
She was wearing slippers. Her balance gave out and she dropped onto the carpet. Instantly, a piercing shriek ripped from her throat, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
The front door slammed open.
Otto burst in.
"Davina! What happened?"