News of my father's remarriage spread through our social circle like wildfire.
In the weeks leading up to it, he paraded Christina around every public event imaginable—even the ones strictly for married couples.
Kevin issued a decree: no one was to call her "the illegitimate daughter" anymore. She was to be treated with the same respect as he was.
Christina made sure I knew.
Video calls. Photos. Messages at all hours.
Every single one designed to twist the knife.
"Sis, Kevin gave me another diamond ring yesterday. Our initials are engraved on it. They say the stone is even bigger than the one from your wedding."
"Oh, and he convinced his mother to give me the family's heirloom jade bracelet. You know, the one that's supposed to go to the daughter-in-law? I guess you won't be needing it anymore."
I remembered that bracelet.
The Henson family tradition was clear: it only passed to the son's wife after she gave birth.
Kevin had never once fought to get it for me. "We'll have children eventually," he'd said. "It'll come to you naturally."
Given his wandering eye back then, I'd never been eager to get pregnant anyway. We'd planned to start trying after the new year.
Well. That plan was certainly dead now.
I couldn't imagine what he'd said to make Miriam Henson—traditional, immovable Miriam—break her own rules.
The final message was a photo.
Kevin, asleep. His bare neck and chest were covered in lipstick marks.
"Sis, Kevin is incredible. I could barely keep up. He said he hasn't felt this alive in years. Apparently being with you was like facing down a tigress—killed his mood completely. He just went through the motions."
I didn't bother responding.
I blocked her.
The day of my father's wedding to Glenda, Kevin expected me to cause a scene.
He stationed bodyguards everywhere—inside the venue, outside, at every exit.
He needn't have bothered.
Kevin had already made his position clear: anyone who helped me make trouble would answer to the Henson family.
No one dared stand with me.
I sat alone in my hotel room, tracing my mother's face in the photograph I'd brought. Tears fell onto the glass.
I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry.
That afternoon, Kevin kicked in my door anyway.
Behind him stood Christina, eyes swollen and red from crying.
He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed my collar, yanking me close.