Chapter 4

As if summoned by my fury, a car pulled up.

Mom got out, looking distressed, followed by Kevin, swaggering with a sickeningly false bravado, and Brittany, clinging to his arm, a smug smirk on her face.

They surveyed the damage, Kevin with a feigned shock that was almost comical.

"Oh my god, Sarah! What happened?" Mom cried, rushing towards the truck.

Brittany just scanned the obscenities with a look of triumph.

"Looks like someone doesn't like you very much, Sarah," Brittany said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.

Kevin stepped forward, puffing his chest out.

"This is terrible, sis. Just terrible. But look, we don't need to get the police involved, okay? It'll just cause more trouble."

I stared at him, my voice dangerously quiet. "You did this."

He flinched. "Don't be crazy, why would I do this to my own sister?"

"Because I wouldn't buy your fiancée a handbag, because I wouldn't publicly humiliate myself for her amusement," I said, my gaze flicking to Brittany, who was now examining her nails.

"Now, now, Sarah," Carol interjected, wringing her hands. "Let's not make accusations. The important thing is to fix this."

"Kevin," I said, ignoring Mom, "you think this is a game?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Sarah, Brittany is very upset. She's suffered a lot of emotional distress because of your attitude."

Brittany perked up. "He's right. This whole situation has been incredibly stressful for me. I think, to make things right, you should give me ten thousand dollars. For my emotional distress."

Ten thousand dollars.

I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that surprised even myself.

"You vandalize my business, the business that supports your lazy ass, and you want me to pay you?"

Brittany' s smirk faltered. "You're just jealous of me, of what Kevin and I have."

"Jealous of a freeloader and a gold-digger? Honey, please."

That hit a nerve. Brittany' s face contorted with rage.

"You bitch!" she shrieked, stepping towards me.

Something inside me snapped. All the years of biting my tongue, of sacrificing, of being taken for granted, it all boiled over.

I shoved her, hard. "Get away from my truck."

Brittany, not expecting it, stumbled back dramatically, landing on her butt with a theatrical cry. "Heelp! She's attacking me!"

Kevin roared. "You crazy bitch! Don't you touch her!"

He lunged at me, his face a mask of fury, hands outstretched like claws.

Instinct took over.

My hand shot out, grabbing the first thing I could reach from the damaged truck – a heavy-duty sauté pan, one of my favorites.

I swung it.

There was a sickening thud as it connected with the side of Kevin's head.

He grunted, his eyes rolling back, and crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.