Standing right behind her, dressed in simple leggings and a jacket that looked more expensive than everything Acacia was trying to buy, was Ruby. Her eyes were hollow, rimmed with the ghost of her grief, but her presence was a physical weight that made Acacia feel small, cheap, and exposed.
"Was someone pretending to be me just now?" Ruby asked. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a razor.
The boutique fell into a horrified, pin-drop silence. Acacia scrambled backward, her face a mask of wounded pride and venom.
"Oh, please! Who is pretending to be you?" Acacia spat, wiping a smudge of makeup from her cheek. "I'm the real Mrs. Byron. You're just a knock-off Seron dumped, and his father picked up the pieces. I actually pity you. I thought you'd be home crying into your pillow, it's all you know how to do, but look at you, trying to show off."
