The gossip mill started the second Everett and I stepped into the room.

They were buzzing again, speculating about when the ugly duckling who had waddled into their pristine, swan-filled pond would finally be kicked out. In the past, I accepted this as part of the price of admission for marrying Everett Harrison. I used to look away, pretend I didn't hear, and swallow the bile rising in my throat.

But I was done being the bigger person.

"Good God, will you all just shut up?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Everett glanced at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. I swept my gaze across the room, locking eyes with every woman who had been whispering behind her fan.

"Even the neighborhood bullies have more dignity than you lot—at least they have the spine to say things to my face. Is gossiping like schoolchildren really the best you can do?"

The small circle of women flinched, their faces flushing red before they scattered like roaches in the light.

Everett pulled me forward, tucking my arm back into his with a cold, disapproving air. "Evelyn, it’s just a few comments. Is it really worth losing your temper over?"

I felt the familiar urge to snap back, but when I saw his guarded expression, I bit my tongue. He wasn't defending me. He never would. He didn't care that they were insulting me; he only cared that I had disrupted the curated, superficial harmony of the evening.

To him, an ugly duckling should know her place. If you wander into a swan’s territory, you shouldn't be surprised when you’re pecked at.

We walked a few more paces before the source of the toxicity appeared. Victoria Harrison and Hailey Silva were standing by the foyer, looking for all the world like a mother and daughter hosting a gala. The moment they spotted me, Victoria’s face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated disdain. She didn't even bother to hide it from the guests.

"You're late," Victoria barked, not bothering with a greeting. "Do you have any idea how chaotic the kitchen is right now? Don't just stand there like a statue. Get into the kitchen and get those dishes finished!"

Roland had recently raved about my cooking, expressing how much he wanted the guests to taste it today. But Victoria had intercepted that request, twisting it into a narrative to prop up Hailey.

"Hailey has been so attentive," Victoria had told the guests earlier, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "She prepared everything for you herself, Father. Every bite is a testament to her devotion."

So, Hailey had already taken the credit. She had played the part of the dutiful daughter-in-law, letting the world think the flavors were all her.

Fine. If the credit was already stolen, I wasn't about to be the idiot who kept working for free.