Chapter 4

“Get in the car.”

Calista stared at Ken, bewildered. “Why are you here?”

His brows furrowed in irritation. “You pushed Viola down yesterday and ruined her dress today. Don’t you think you owe her an apology?”

“I never pushed her, and I didn’t ruin any dress. Stop accusing me!” She turned to leave, but Ken caught her arm roughly. He froze when he noticed the bruises marking her delicate skin.

“What happened to your arm?”

Calista felt tears threatening to spill. “Don’t you already know?” she asked softly.

Discomfort flickered across Ken’s face before his expression hardened. “You’ve become quite manipulative,” he said coldly. “Would you really hurt yourself just to frame Viola?”

Ken, is that really who you think I

his tone. “It’s just an apology, Calista. Why

away, but not before a tear escaped.

He threw a paint–stained

“What is this?”

dress. She can’t attend the party now,” he said icily. “Clean it,

bright paint–clearly intentional, but not

do this, and I won’t clean

my fault! You’ve completely lost your moral compass!” His fists clenched as disappointment flickered in

been struck by lightning. She stared

was my mother’s…” Her voice

instinctively reached out to wipe them away, but Calista flinched back. His hand hung

dress, and you’ll get your

to humiliate

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