Chapter 1

I stared at the bright-green jade bracelet on Anna Fox's wrist, my knuckles white around the glass.

That bracelet was my grandmother's grandmother's dowry. Four generations, passed only to the eldest daughter. My mother slid it onto my wrist with her own hands on my wedding day, her fingers trembling as she worked the clasp shut, telling me it was my security in the Dickerson family. Even if I was ever mistreated, she said, I could sell it and get by for a while. Jade nourishes the one who wears it; carried down through so many generations, its shine was soft and warm, like spring water just breaking the surface.

Now it sat on my sister-in-law's wrist. Paired with her trailing gown that cost tens of thousands, the crystal chandeliers overhead threw the green up at me until my eyes ached. When Anna lifted her arm to toast, the bracelet clinked against a glass, a sound as light as a needle going into flesh.

The hand holding my glass jerked. A few drops of red wine spilled and soaked into the hem of my dress.

My mother-in-law came over carrying a dish heaped with wedding candies. She saw my eyes fixed on Anna's wrist, and her face settled into its usual smile, the one with the calculation behind it. Her steps were light, like she'd just found money on the ground. She leaned in and patted the back of my hand, hard enough that I flinched.

"Edwina Dickerson, honey, you married into this family, so you're one of us now. What's yours is ours. Anna's getting married today, so we're giving her a little something to shine with. We're all family. Don't be petty about it."

The corners of her mouth were turned up as she said it. But her eyes stayed on my face the whole time, watching, like she wanted to see whether the rabbit in the trap still had any fight left.

The whole table around us was Fox relatives. Aunts, an aunt on the other side, an uncle's wife, a crowded table of them, and they all chimed in. Said I was so understanding. Said my mother-in-law was blessed, getting such a generous daughter-in-law. The uncle's wife even reached over and patted my hand, her nails long, leaving a white scratch across the back of it.

I pulled my mouth into something like a smile. My palms were full of the marks my own nails had dug in.