She regretted the words as soon as she saw the look on Anne’s face … but not enough to take them back. Why had she run to ruin? Told so many charming lies around her actions while she built a little house of straw so she could run to sticks and bricks later? Because the alternative was Alice, miserably married to a creepy old man, or Anne … too dumb to imagine a life that wasn’t dictated by one angry, violent parental figure – be it husband or father.

(Never mind that Alice had sang the same sentiment of “you should get married!”.)

“Really?” Lory retorted, one openly disbelieving little word.

Then – there it came. What she’d dreaded all along. The family was coming to ruin because of her, and her alone. There was that siren’s call of if they just did everything their temperamental uncle demanded, no one got hurt. She flinched, but then gritted her teeth behind her carefully closed mouth.

“There was nothing here to ruin, Anne. If I’m going to live in fear of men’s tempers, I might as well be able to eat afterward.”

Then, she advanced on her with a fury in her eyes.

“You know those sweet cakes you love so much, that you started getting on your birthdays?” She smiled viciously, and smacked her own ass. “This paid for those!”