The two of them went into the kitchen, whispering about who knows what.
I sat on a chair nearby and shot Nicolas’ little brother a stern glare.
The little brat, growing bolder by the second, actually tried to hit me.
I wasn’t about to let that slide. I grabbed his arm and sent him sprawling onto the floor.
He glared at me viciously and spat out, “Just you wait!”
A moment later, a piercing shriek tore through the air—so loud it seemed to rattle the walls—yet not a single tear stained his cheeks. It was all for show.
Hearing the commotion, his mother came rushing out of the kitchen.
“What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”
The little brat, still pretending to wipe the non-existent tears, pointed straight at me.
I saw her face darken, but before she could say anything, Nicolas quickly stepped in and tugged her back.
“Stop making things up. Why would your sister-in-law bully you? Get up and go wait in your room until dinner.”
Her words felt strained, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Nicolas had probably said something to her in the kitchen—most likely about that so-called seventeen-thousand-dollar “gift” he’d been pushing for.
Still, the way she called me “sister-in-law” made my skin crawl.
“Ma’am, just call me Claire,” I said politely.
“Alright then, Claire. Sorry about that—you know how kids are. I’ll go finish up dinner now. You two sit tight in the living room.”
Her cold stare had turned into an overly sweet smile so abruptly, it left me momentarily disoriented.
But I could play along with her act just as well as she could.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Before long, the dishes were set on the table. It was a simple meal, but at least it was hot.
I’d just taken a few bites when Nicolas’s little brother suddenly looked up at me from across the table.
There was still grease at the corner of his mouth, and though he was just a kid, he had the audacity to look so smug and self-righteous.
