At the mall, I spotted a Hermès bag. I reached for my wallet, but Evander darted ahead to pay.

Then a voice I knew all too well called out behind me.

“Hey, that bag’s nice. Suits me.”

Althea.

She strutted over, trying on bags, smiling wide.

“Well, well. You’re not carrying your ugly backpack anymore? So feminine—Mama almost doesn’t recognize you.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“What’s wrong? Charmed by Mama? Get in line. There are ten thousand ahead of you.”

The bile rose higher. I forced myself to speak.

“Miss Ravenscroft, I came here first. I’ve already paid.”

Althea poked Evander’s chest with her manicured finger.

“But I like it too. My boy, you decide—sisters or women? Don’t you dare put a woman before me.”

Evander burst out laughing.

“Alright, alright. It’s rare for you to want something. How could I resist you?"

My breath hitched, pain stabbing through my abdomen.

“Honey, don’t be angry,” Evander soothed quickly. “Althea hasn’t bought a bag in eight hundred years. Let her have this one. We’ll get you another. Any style you like—I’ll buy it for you.”

But I didn’t want leftovers. Not anymore.

I curved my lips into a smile that tasted of blood.

“Evander, let’s talk.”

He ignored the edge in my tone, pulling out his phone.

“That restaurant you mentioned last time—it’s perfect. I’ll book it. Tonight, just you and me. Nothing is more important than my wife.”

But that night, I waited three hours alone at the restaurant.

A message finally came. Working overtime. Need money for the baby’s formula.

My phone buzzed again. Althea’s status update.

A photo of the Hermès bag.

My boy is so sensible and filial to her mama I’m so happy! Drinks on me tonight to celebrate.

The comments flooded in:

“Oh my god, isn’t this the new limited edition? Three hundred thousand? Evander is too generous!”

“Althea, careful—your sister-in-law might beat you up. She’s stingy as hell.”

“Don’t remind me. Thalia ruined the last party. Couldn’t even drink. If Evander hadn’t kicked her out, I’d have made her kneel and apologize.”

Althea replied with a bomb emoji.

“Can a sister be the same as a wife? Don’t marry, or you’ll end up with someone like Thalia—nothing but trouble, can’t even hold her liquor.”

Evander didn’t reply—but he liked Althea’s comment.

My fingertips trembled. Pain spread from my chest, crawling into every vein.

The waiter approached for the eighth time.