Before I could gather my words, the front door opened, and a familiar voice rang out, honey-sweet and full of sparkle.
“Kier! Brother-in-law! Why are you shouting again?” Camille.
She entered with her usual grand entrance—sun-kissed from her trip, her long curls bouncing, arms full of designer bags and luggage with tags still hanging from them.
“Oh, look at this!” she grinned, placing the gifts down. “Spain was beautiful. You’d love it, Kier. I brought you something.”
Kier immediately softened. “Camille, you didn’t have to—”
She held out a sleek box. “These are custom pieces from Madrid. Only a few made. I saw them and thought of you.”
He opened the box like a child with a toy, smiling wide.
Then Camille looked at me, feigning concern. “Why were you shouting at my sister? She looks tired. Look at her hands—she’s clearly been working hard. Don’t worry about the shirt. I brought you new ones.”
And just like that, I faded into the background again.
The front door opened once more.
“Camille! My star!” my father David boomed, walking in with arms full of gifts. “How was the trip? Tell us everything!”
She hugged him like the daughter he always wished I had been. “I closed the deal. It’s done!”