I clicked on the image. On the photo the ring that I had been expecting to receive, had circled on her finger.
Clara even put a caption. [A happy ring that had been given to me by the one who loves me. I know I’ll always be happy!
I pressed both my cracked lips tightly then I said with a slightly croaked voice, "I thought the ring I designed wasn’t supposed to be available for sale? How did it end up on Clara’s finger?"
His eyelashes fluttered slightly, a flicker of panic flashing in his eyes. His palm, holding mine, was damp with sweat.
"We recently signed her as our brand ambassador. It's normal for her to try on the ring," he said.
"Samantha." He then rebuked me, "Clara is still your sister. After all, you both are family. Don't be so petty."
Initially, Clara's father was my family's driver. One day, he got into an accident while driving our car under the influence and passed away. My mother, feeling sorry for Clara's mother, allowed her to work as a housekeeper in our home.