For a brief moment, Luther was at a loss for words, but it did not take long for him to regain his usual self-righteous demeanor.
"Stella’s birthday was ruined because of your commotion. You should take responsibility, right?"
"Besides, I never asked your mother to save me, so don’t try to guilt-trip me with morality."
I trembled with rage. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest cup and hurled it at him.
Luther dodged to the side and the cup shattered against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor.
"You are such a shrew!" He looked at me with pure disgust. "I can’t stay in this house anymore."
With that, he walked to the fridge, pulled out a box of dumplings and left without looking back.
My heart tightened as I watched him hold the last box of cake my mother had made for me.
"You can’t take it! This is all I have left from my mother!" I reached out, desperate to stop him.
Before that, Luther kicked me hard in the stomach, his voice venomous.
"You’re making a big deal over a cake? It’s your mother’s blessing that Stella even wants to eat something she made!"