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had done. They were waiting to see what I would do. The poor sister had been attacked by the golden bride. This was supposed to be the moment I cracked.
At my brother’s engagement, his fiancée poured vintage Cabernet down my thrift-store dress and laughed. His future mother-in-law dragged me to the vendor table like I was the help. My own brother watched… and turned his back… By 6:05, I had legally terminated their event. And that I was done being their silent ATM.
Bianca gave a light, tinkling laugh, the kind that belonged over brunch drinks and cruel gossip.
“Oh dear,” she said dramatically. “Look at that. What a shame.”
