Chapter 6: Accusations and Outrage

At this, my mother-in-law’s eyes darkened. The muscles in her jaw flexed, her gaze sharp as a hawk’s.

She rolled her eyes, her gaze sweeping over my parents before landing on me. I felt the full weight of her judgment, colder than the December air.

When she saw me, her eyes flickered, a flash of disgust crossing her face. It was the same look she’d given me when I first stepped into her kitchen years ago, too shy to meet her eyes.

That look—I had seen it all my life, and it was all too familiar. You never forget the face of someone who’s sure you don’t belong.

Mother-in-law—she had been given a second chance, too. I saw the calculation in her expression, as if she were rewriting her own past with every word.

She slowly straightened, staring at me maliciously, sneering again and again. Her voice rose, icy with satisfaction.

"Of course the engagement gifts must be returned to the Parker family."

"The Smith family not only has to return the gifts, but also compensate us two thousand dollars."

"Because Rachel Smith, that little tramp, is no longer a virgin!"

The yard exploded. A murmur spread, shock and indignation twisting every face. Someone dropped a casserole dish. Kids stopped playing, their eyes huge. Even old Mrs. Jenkins gasped loud enough for the whole block to hear.

My mother’s eyes turned red with fury, as if she might tear someone apart. Her hands shook, the dish towel falling unnoticed to the porch floor.

"Nonsense! Linda Parker, I’ll rip that filthy mouth of yours!" She lunged, held back only by the tight clutch of her own dignity.

My fifteen-year-old younger brother leapt up like a wildcat, fists raised at my mother-in-law. His voice cracked, anger burning brighter than fear.

"How dare you slander my sister! I’ll beat you to death, you old witch!"

Dad grabbed him by the waist, veins bulging on his forehead. He looked like he might boil over any second.

After a deep breath, he turned to Uncle Jeff.

"Jeff, this needs to be made clear."

"Otherwise, the Smith family won’t take this lying down!"

A chorus of agreement rose up. My aunts and uncles shouted over one another, indignation uniting the family like nothing else ever had.

We live in Maple Hollow, a large town of three or four hundred families—half named Carter, half named Smith. The bloodlines ran deep and tangled, every argument personal.

Everyone is related somehow. The sense of kinship—sometimes comforting, sometimes suffocating—meant there was no such thing as a private scandal.

Several of my aunts stood with hands on their hips, spitting as they spoke, wishing they could help my mother tear my mother-in-law’s mouth apart. Their voices carried across the yard, loud enough for half the town to hear.

"Linda Parker, what kind of garbage are you spewing?"

"Our Rachel is a well-known good girl, never even talks with the town boys!"

"Do you think the Smith family is short of people? How dare you slander our daughter’s name!" Their words piled up like sandbags, trying to protect me from the rising tide of shame.