Color rose hot in Marta's cheeks. "I'm not as useless as you," she spat.
"Whatever," Rhea replied, unbothered. "All I care about is how good it tasted." She tapped her temple, then dragged her finger along the side of her head, pointing to the dried blood crusted there. "And next time, when you tell your version of the story, don't leave out the details — especially when the proof is still right here."
All eyes followed her as she straightened. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
Rhea continued toward the door, Seraphine and her daughters shifting aside to give her a clear path. None of them moved to stop her.
"You're letting her go?" Marta's voice cracked out, sharp with disbelief.
