Chapter 2

I froze.

Ferdinand Stephens, it seems you've forgotten which place is really home.

And who your girlfriend really is.

That night, Ferdinand didn't come home at all.

The next day, his childhood sweetheart threw a fit to be discharged.

Ferdinand called me.

"Come get her."

"She says the hospital food is terrible."

I was in the middle of a meeting.

My phone sat on the table, on speaker.

The whole conference room heard it.

I picked up the phone. "I'm busy."

Ferdinand laughed. "Didn't that acquisition plan of yours already fall through? Busy with what?"

"Busy making money."

I kept my voice flat. "So I can make enough to compensate your little sweetheart with more luxury goods."

Two seconds of silence on his end.

"What's with the attitude?"

"That bug last time, you really shouldn't have stepped on it."

"Linda raised it for a whole month, fed it cabbage leaves every day, treasured the thing."

"It was just childish fun. She was only teasing you."

"And you crushed it with one stomp."

"She cried all night, her eyes are swollen, I spent forever calming her down."

I looked around the conference room.

They pretended to keep their heads down over the documents.

Every ear was tuned in.

"So?"

"You think I shouldn't have hit her? That I should've just let her use some filthy bug to prank me in the middle of my meeting?"

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Ferdinand, you know exactly how important that meeting was."

Ferdinand said nothing.

He knew. He knew all of it. To pull off that acquisition,

I'd worked overtime until dawn for two straight months.

I'd finally gotten to speak in the meetings, to fight for the investment.

And then Linda, on a whim, used a bug to prank me.

Two months of effort, gone.

"It's all in the past. Why keep dragging it up?"

Ferdinand was getting impatient.

I could hear the noise of a line of people behind him.

I didn't have to ask.

Ferdinand was standing in a queue right now, buying Linda her favorite chilled fruit sorbet.

"You've got half an hour. Go to the hospital and pick Linda up."

"If she ends up crying because of you again,"

"it won't be as simple as paying her back with one bag."

I hung up.

The conference room went quiet enough to hear the hum of the air conditioning.

"Let's continue."

After the meeting ended, I went back to my office.

I opened the drawer.

Inside sat a neat stack of documents.

Every one of them a share-transfer agreement.

Signed. Sealed.

Ferdinand had no idea.

Every time a luxury bag disappeared from my cabinet,

one more agreement appeared in here.

That evening, worn out, I came home.

Only to find Linda standing in front of my cabinet, picking through my bags.

"Ferdinand, this one's pretty."

"I want this one, then."

Ferdinand took it out without a shred of hesitation.

As he handed it to Linda, he gave her nose a doting flick.

"Whatever you want, I'll get it for you."

"No more crying after this. If you cry your eyes swollen and end up looking like a splotchy little cat, that won't be cute."

Linda giggled.

She slung the bag over her shoulder and struck poses in the mirror.

I stood where I was, watching it all, cold.

A whole cabinet of luxury bags.

The year Ferdinand had the most money, he made good on the promise he'd once given me.

He cleared out a huge room on the entire second floor.

Built a full wall of cabinets for luxury goods.

He said every month he'd give me a bag.

Until all one hundred slots were filled.

But when it reached the ninety-eighth,

Linda showed up on his doorstep for help.

Ferdinand's one-bag-a-month plan stopped.

It turned into relief rations to keep her.

She wanted pretty clothes, pretty meals.

Ferdinand paid for all of it.

Every time I asked why,

Ferdinand would put on a pained face.

"Linda's mother is my godmother too. She looked after me plenty when I was little."

"It's just a little money. Don't nickel-and-dime it."

She loved raising bugs, and she loved to cry.

Especially those bugs she used to prank me, to make my skin crawl.

Every time she ended up in tears,

Ferdinand made me hand over a luxury bag to make up for it.

Linda even came to my house herself, picking through them one by one, and posted about it on social media.

"Sis, you're back?"

Linda saw me and shrank back behind Ferdinand, scared.

I stared at the top of Linda's head. The wound had nearly healed.

"Didn't I say I won't allow you in my house?"

Linda bit her lip, the picture of wronged innocence.

"Phyllis Henson, how dare you even say that!"

Ferdinand cut me off.

"I told you to pick Linda up from the hospital, and you bailed. And now you've got the nerve to blame her?"

I shoved past him and walked over.

"I'm under no obligation."

I looked at the cabinet where the luxury bags had been. Empty now.

"Ferdinand, this is the last time."

The corner of Ferdinand's mouth curled into a sneer.

"I hope it's the last time too."

"Phyllis Henson, I hope you'll learn to behave and stop provoking Linda."

The next day, Linda came to my company.

She had that limited-edition Chanel slung over her shoulder, the one she'd taken from me just yesterday.

The front desk stopped her, and she got haughty.

"I'm your Ms. Henson's sister."

"I'm here to hang out with her."

The front desk called up.

I didn't say to let her in.

Before long, she came clacking in on her heels, barging straight through.