“Claire,” he began, dripping with paternal condescension. “Daniel was telling me about his new venture. I have to say, I’m disappointed in your lack of enthusiasm.

When are you going to stop playing with your little spreadsheets and start supporting your husband properly? Daniel has a real future ahead of him, but he can’t fly if you keep acting like a ball and chain.”

Daniel smirked, tracing the rim of his wine glass, refusing to meet my eyes. He loved this. He loved letting his father do his dirty work.

Vanessa lifted her glass, leaning in to deliver the killing blow. “Richard is right, darling. Some wives are the wind beneath their husbands’ wings. And some wives… well, some wives are just anchors, dragging them to the bottom.”

The dining room erupted into soft, cruel laughter from the sisters.

I didn’t flinch. I reached for my linen napkin, folded it with geometric precision, and set it beside my plate.