eyes from his whiskey.
“You’re prettier than Daniel’s last serious girlfriend,” Victoria said, kissing the air beside my cheek. “Hopefully more adaptable.”
Daniel laughed.
I didn’t.
Then his younger sister, Emily, entered the dining room.
She was twenty-six and painfully thin, dressed in a long cardigan despite the warmth inside the house. As she reached for a glass, one sleeve slipped backward.
Purple bruises surrounded her wrist.
She immediately pulled the sleeve down.
Victoria’s smile disappeared.
“Emily,” she said sharply, “your dinner is in the kitchen.”
Everyone else was served
