“Oh look!” Diane called loudly, holding up the card. “From Sophia! Such taste — a real class act.”
The words hung in the air like smoke — poisonous and deliberate.

I didn’t respond. Because in my purse was an envelope I’d been waiting weeks to reveal. Inside was the truth — proof from a private investigator confirming what I’d long suspected. Diane hadn’t just been cruel. She’d been conspiring.

All I needed was the right moment to strike.

The Power Play

When the gifts were opened and laughter began to fade, Diane rose from her chair, tapping her glass for attention. Her voice cut through the garden chatter.