Chapter 3

On the drive home, I felt completely numb, my mind drifting into a fog.

I started questioning everything, wondering if I'd just misread the entire situation.

Maybe she meant well, and her delivery was just jagged and old-fashioned.

It wasn't until I reached the foyer that I overheard Margaret and Kayla huddled together in the kitchen.

I watched through the doorway as Margaret pulled a velvet box from her pocket and slid a vintage Art Deco diamond ring onto Kayla's finger.

"Kayla, this is the Carter family legacy. You're the only one I trust to keep it safe," Margaret said.

Kayla made a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but she gripped the ring like a lifeline.

"Margaret, you should really be giving this to Sophia. If she finds out I have it, she'll blow a gasket," Kayla said.

Margaret replied, "Just take it; you're nothing like her. I might be getting up there, but I can still spot a fraud a mile away.

"Look at her—always peacocking, always trying to outshine everyone. I've been stuck at her place, and she's certainly gotten her 'charity' tax break out of me. This belongs to you."

Then she leaned in close, her voice dropping to a venomous stage whisper.

She said, "Sophia won't even know. The one I gave her is just a cheap cubic zirconia—yours is the genuine article.

"You wouldn't believe how she follows me around, panting for approval like a desperate puppy. Honestly, it's enough to make me sick."

Then the two of them traded a dark, conspiratorial smirk, looking for all the world like a pair of high school mean girls.

Standing in the entryway, I clenched the cubic zirconia on my own hand so hard the cheap metal bit into my skin.

My heart didn't just break; it turned to ice.

I steeled myself and shoved the door open, letting it hit the wall with a sharp crack.

They both jumped, looking like deer caught in headlights.

Margaret let out a couple of fake, dry coughs, trying to salvage her composure.

"Sophia, perfect timing. Kayla and I were just saying we should hit the Med-Spa tomorrow—why don't you tag along?" Margaret asked.

I didn't give them the satisfaction of a look, focusing entirely on kicking off my heels and tossing my keys onto the console.

Margaret sauntered over, her voice suddenly dripping with fake honey. "My skin has been acting up something terrible lately. I'm starting to wonder if that expensive dermatologist you mentioned could actually fix it."

I let out a short, cold laugh—she never could just ask for something; she always had to bait the hook first.

If it were before, I would have been on the phone making the appointment before she even finished the sentence.

And tomorrow at the spa, I would have been the one sliding my card across the counter before the bill even hit the tray.

But now I'm done "performing."

Margaret, your skin is probably just reacting to dehydration. Just drink a few extra glasses of tap water and you'll be fine. Those 'specialists' are just out to drain your bank account anyway, I said, leaning hard into Kayla's brand of logic.

Margaret froze, the words clearly catching her off guard.

She blinked, then asked tentatively, "Sophia, are you still worked up about what I said earlier?"

I flashed her a bright, empty smile.

"Not at all. You were absolutely right. Dropping thousands of dollars on clinical treatments and peels is a total scam. That's no way for a sensible woman to live," I said.

I took her own lecture and shoved it right back down her throat.

Her face twisted, her expression turning even sourer than mine had been.

Inside, I felt a surge of pure, petty adrenaline, and I didn't stop.

"Besides, Margaret, let's be real—you're not exactly a spring chicken. Why bother with all the high-end maintenance? I mean, who are you even trying to impress at this point?" I added.

Margaret's eyes went wide, her jaw practically hitting the floor.

She was so incensed her hands actually started to shake.

"You... how dare you speak to me with that kind of tone?" Margaret sputtered.

Seeing the wind completely taken out of her sails, the toxic weight I'd been carrying for years finally started to lift.