She was different from me—her face carried a poised and dignified smile and her flawless makeup exuded a mature elegance. "Zoey? That's a nice name, but what a pity you're not lucky in life."
I frowned at her, unsure why she was saying this.
She stretched out her hand under the light and chuckled, "Look at this. It's just a tiny cut, barely broke the skin, yet Keith panicked and rushed me to the hospital. He insisted on getting scans and blood tests—afraid of an infection. Honestly, by the time we finished, the wound was probably already healing. So, it's understandable that he didn't have time to buy you that garlic bread and cream soup from Candor Street, right?"
"How do you know about the garlic bread and cream soup?" I asked, startled.
Sadie looked at me playfully, with disdain in her eyes. "Why wouldn't I know? Those were comfort foods that Keith would buy for me whenever I was sick before I went abroad. You see, after all these years, some habits never change."
My fingertips pinched the quilt a little tighter and finally dug into the palm. As a woman, I couldn't miss the provocation in her words. My numb heart suddenly stirred with the desire to fight back.