sed in gold. The driveway snaked through acres of manicured lawns and ancient trees, final
thought she'd left behind in the back alley of the restaurant. She clutched the strap of her worn purse
ed them into the grand foyer. The ceiling soared two stories high,
aircase, were Delphine Mays and Elianna Nelson. They looked like t
travel over Eileen, from her cheap shoes to her thrift-store
stepson. "Harrison, I cannot believe you act
red, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Perhaps sh
speak, but Eileen placed a light hand on his arm. He stopped, looking d
of their partnership. Sh
She inclined her head toward the older woman. "Hello, Mrs. Mays. I'
er voice steady. She would
off, half-hiss. "The name 'Butler' is not
on, a new bride must first serve tea to the elders. And she will, of course, provide a fu
il her impoverished, broken family in this palace of wealth. Elian
purse and took out a tiny digital voice recorder. She
anged instantly. "What is the mea
s important family moment for posterity. However, Mrs. Mays, reg
al Spouse Protection Act. It explicitly states that no individual, under the guise of 'family tradition' or 'internal
ery clear that forcing a matched spouse to perform what it calls 'class-base
it seems, has just broken federal law. I started this recording to protect myself, of cou
sil
d by a girl she'd dismissed as trash, using a law she'd never bothered to read. The threat of a fe
, her mouth slightly open,
le expression, had a glint of something that looked like admi
authoritative. "Roberts," he said to the
rd "wife," turning
Mr. Bu
Eileen passed by Delphine and Elianna. She gave
ore infuriating than any
ils digging so deeply into her palms that they drew blood. Thi
/1/114371/coverbig.jpg?v=124887af6760181d313328d75eac47f3&imageMogr2/format/webp)