She Stopped Faking Crazy After I Died,So I Came Back for Revenge

I glared at Greta with pure venom in my eyes.

"I raised all of that to feed this family! You gave it away—what is your brother supposed to eat?"

Greta didn't even flinch. She stood there, chin lifted, as if I were the unreasonable one.

"This is stuff from my mother's house. I can give it to whoever I want. What's it to you?"

"Besides, every daughter who goes home for the holidays takes stuff back with her. Everyone does it. You're an outsider—why do you even care?" She jabbed a finger toward me. "If you hadn't driven my mother insane, she would've packed all this up for me a long time ago!"

I was grinding my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Then I saw what Dolores had in her hands.

My wedding jewelry. The five gold pieces Nathan had given me on our wedding day.

Dolores had been jealous of that jewelry for years. Her own husband, when he was alive, had never loved her. He'd beaten her daily, and the gold bracelet he'd given her turned out to be silver wrapped in gold foil—a fake. That betrayal had hollowed her out, and she'd latched onto Nathan as her only source of meaning. When she found out he'd given me real gold, five whole pieces of it, something inside her cracked.

She couldn't stand to see me have what she never did. She'd had her eye on that jewelry for years.

I'd hidden it so carefully. Moved it from spot to spot, tucked it away where no one would think to look. But she'd found it anyway.

Dolores held up my gold necklace, grinning from ear to ear. Then she tossed it straight into the sewer drain.

I screamed and lunged for it.

Greta stuck her foot out. I hit the ground hard.

"Oh, relax, sis," Greta said, examining her nails like she was bored. "Mom just wants to play. Let her have her fun. She's out of her mind anyway."

Before the words had even settled, Dolores pulled out the rest of my jewelry—every last piece—and dumped it all into the cesspit. The water swallowed it in seconds.

I sobbed so hard I couldn't breathe. I clawed my way off the ground and wrapped my hands around Dolores's throat.

Greta saw me grab her mother and suddenly found her sense of justice. She tackled me to the floor, pinned me down with her full weight, and slapped me across the face. Over and over. A hundred times, maybe more.

"That's what you get for bullying my mother, you worthless tramp!"

Dolores grabbed a bowl of rancid dog food from nearby and poured it over my head.

The stench hit me like a wall. It flooded my nostrils, so thick I could taste it. My stomach heaved, and I vomited directly onto Greta's face.

Greta shrieked. She reared back and kicked me square in the face with her high heel.

I dragged myself up. My hands found the kitchen knife on the counter. I pointed it at both of them, my eyes burning.

They froze. Neither one moved.

But then Nathan walked in.

He saw me standing there, knife in hand, pointed at his mother and his sister.

His eyes went wide with disbelief.