"Miss Perez." She tilted her head, eyes glittering with malice. "How was your night? Lonely, I imagine. That big bed all to yourself."
She leaned closer.
"Ryan was with me. We were up very late." Her smile sharpened. "He says you're like a block of wood in bed. Five years, and you still can't keep his interest."
I met her gaze. Ice cold.
"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
Sandra's smile froze, then twisted into something uglier. "My mother only taught me to take what I want."
She stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. "Do you really think your dead father's little sacrifice—using his own life to guilt-trip Ryan—will keep him by your side forever?"
Dad's death is a wound I can never touch.
"Say that again." My voice came out low. Dangerous.
Sandra didn't flinch. "Your father, that pathetic ghost, deserved to be run over."
"If he hadn't stuck his nose where it didn't belong, Ryan and I would've been together years ago. He traded his worthless life to chain Ryan to you—to make him marry you out of guilt, to torment his conscience forever!"
Crack.
I was on my feet before I knew it, my palm connecting with her face.
Sandra clutched her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. "You hit me?"