Deep winter. The tea had long gone cold. My soaked clothes made me shiver, and when I opened my eyes, my vision blurred into something vicious through the dripping liquid.
Before I could say a word, she shrank behind Alex, playing the victim.
"Alex, I didn't mean to."
"The baby kicked me. I got startled and couldn't hold the cup."
Her voice trembled with fake tears, but her eyes were pure provocation. I stood, wiped the tea leaves off my face, and the bruise on my forehead throbbed so hard my tone went sharp. "A baby that hasn't even formed yet—where would it get a foot to kick you?"
Her face went white. Even her crying stopped. She clutched Alex's sleeve and wouldn't let go. "Alex, did she just curse our baby to be born without feet?"
Alex couldn't stand seeing a woman look weak and fragile. Noticing my forehead was only bruised, not bleeding, he tenderly rubbed Lily's belly and turned cold toward me for the first time.
"It's just clothes. I'll have the store send over all the new styles. Won't that do? You've been Mrs. Fleming for years—haven't you learned to be generous? Look how scared you made your little sister. What if you frighten the baby?"