Bianca's face twisted with fury. She let out a shrill cry and snapped, "Who are you calling a chicken? That's too much. You're the real chicken!"
Someone in the crowd, eager to stir the pot, shouted half-jokingly, "Is there really someone out there doing that for money?"
I raised my hand and pointed straight at Bianca, my voice ringing out so every single person could hear. "She is a prostitute! She's been doing it for five years—plenty of men and money."
"Enough!" Jasper's roar cut through the air.
Veins throbbed at his temples, and the fury in his eyes locked on me like a final warning not to push him over the edge.
Bianca collapsed into a dramatic sob, choking out her words. "You're trying to ruin me and the babies! You've spread rumors about me since we were kids. I give up, okay? Just leave me alone!"
Then, like clockwork, she played the same old retreat-to-advance game. "Jasper, I'll raise the children myself. As long as you're with me, Katie will call me a prostitute. How can I live like that?"
And Jasper, of course, still shielded her.