Three Bags of Cashews and a Dishonest Sister In Law at the Wedding

Beatrice said, her voice sharp as a paring knife. “We are here to celebrate Clara.”

Clara twirled a strand of her dark hair around her finger, her eyes darting between me and her aunt.

“The wedding is on Saturday, Beatrice,” Clara said softly, her voice trailing off as she looked down at her lap.

“Exactly,” Beatrice said, her acrylic continue reading …