Her dad stood, taking her mother’s hand. “Let’s go inside, Maggie. Come on.”

He steered her toward the house without another word. Eden watched him go, waiting for a reply she knew wouldn’t come. She let her body absorb the truth. Survive it. Her mother turned, sneering over her shoulder. “You’re despicable.”

Eden heard the words, let them run through her like water. When her parents were inside, she turned to Sienna. “Do you have anything to say?”

Her sister fumbled with her rose-patterned teacup. “You’ve upset mum and dad.”

“You never apologised for stealing my boyfriend.”

A faint flush stained Sienna’s. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Of course, you’re not.” Eden let out a breath. “Sienna, you know who David is. You know he’s a pig. You know he still creeps on me. You can bury your head in the sand all you want, but he groomed me then dumped me for you. That’s the guy you’re marrying. That’s gonna be the father of your kids.”

Sienna raised her teacup, her peach-coloured nail glinting in the sun. “You should go.”

Eden nodded. “I should. Good luck, Sienna.”

Inside the house, her mother was waiting. As Eden crossed the living room, she popped out of the kitchen door like a cunty jack in the box. “Of all the melodramatic things you’ve done, Eden Jade—”

Eden raised her forearm and blew a loud, wet raspberry. That stopped her mother in her tracks. She smiled. “Bye, mum. I’m blocking your number.”

“But—”

She blew another raspberry. To her amazement, her controlled, ladylike mother stamped her foot on the carpet. “How dare—”

She did it again. She kept doing it as she walked backward to the front door. She passed an astounded Shirley and waved. “Bye. Feel free to steal everything in my room.”

Cheryl was still parked by the gate, smoking in the driver’s seat. She looked so beautiful, Eden beamed as she ran toward her.

“It’s done.” She wrenched open the passenger side door. “Let’s get out of here.”

Cheryl crushed her cigarette butt into the little car ashtray. “You tell ‘em?”

“I sure did.”

“Good girl.” Cheryl reversed out of the driveway, hitting play on Delicate. The music burned through her and Eden bent forward to turn up the volume. “It’s done. It’s over.”

Her head hurt, and she couldn’t stop shaking, but she felt so light, she could have flown back to her apartment.

“I’m proud of you,” Cheryl said, pulling a fresh cigarette from the pack. “Victory cocktails?”

Tempting, but Eden felt like breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, baby spinach, and avocado. “Why don’t we grab brunch? My shout.”

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