Cass’s car was parked at the curb, a shiny SUV she definitely couldn’t afford on her “influencer” income. She’d told everyone she had “a real estate thing” going now. She posted photos with “SOLD” signs and captions about manifestation.
I took a breath, picked up my folder, and walked inside.
The house smelled like barbecue and vanilla. My mother had lit a candle, the kind called something like Cozy Autumn even in the middle of spring.
“Elena!” she sang, wiping her hands on a dish towel and pulling me into a hug.
Her hug was warm and familiar. It almost made me hesitate.
Almost.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, stepping back.
My father grunted a greeting from the patio.
Then Cass appeared in the doorway like she was stepping into a spotlight.
She was glowing. Designer dress, gold jewelry, hair curled perfectly. Her smile was bright enough to be a weapon.
“There she is,” Cass said, leaning in for a cheek kiss that smelled like expensive perfume. “My little sis.”
I didn’t smile. I didn’t step away either. I just looked at her.
For a second, her eyes flickered—something sharp, something calculating.