“But honestly,” she went on, walking in like she belonged there, “you can’t blame him for doubting you. Especially after what your father did. You should’ve been honest about his scam from the start. Secrets always come back to bite.”
I kept my back turned, folding another dress with shaking hands. She was baiting me. I refused to snap.
Still, anger burned hot in my chest. My father’s sins were never mine. I had spent my whole life paying for mistakes I didn’t make. Why was I still being punished for his past? And why did she think she had the right to throw it in my face?
She moved closer, fingers reaching for my clothes. “So you’re leaving?” she said with a light laugh. “That’s for the best. You really don’t belong here anymore. Let me help you pack.”
“I don’t need you,” I said sharply, finally turning to face her. “Leave. I can do this myself. And don’t pretend—I know every word out of your mouth is an act.”
She ignored me and stepped farther into the room, touching things that weren’t hers.
Then her arm brushed the side table.
The vase tipped.
It shattered the moment it hit the floor.
My breath caught painfully in my chest.
Not that vase.