Howard aimed the water gun straight at my face.
Water forced itself up my nose, flooded my ear canals, burned like fire through every passage it touched.
I tried to rise, but the pressure blurred everything to nothing.
I couldn't even lift my head. All I could do was kneel there and take it—jet after jet of ice-cold water slamming into me, every blast a fresh jolt of agony.
Howard saw what I looked like on my knees and let out a shrill, ugly laugh.
The moment she saw Howard laughing, Judy finally stopped.
She draped herself against him, nestling into his arms with that syrupy, performative sweetness, her voice so honeyed it could rot teeth.
"Howard, happy now?"
"With you, I'm always happy..."
Howard's answer drew a triumphant little laugh from Judy,
but before it had even faded,
he put on a pitiful, wounded look and spoke again.
"But..."
Judy's smile vanished instantly.
"But what?"
"Howard, don't hold back. I'm here. Just tell me what you want."
Howard slid his arm around Judy's slender waist, stroking the back of her hand over and over as he spoke slowly,
"My clothes just got soaked because of Dustin... I'm so cold..."
"That's fine, I'll take you to the mall right now and buy you something new."
"No."
Howard pointed at me, pulling Judy tighter against him.
"I want the one on Dustin. That one. Give it to me now."
"Not a chance!"
I cut him off, my voice hard.
This ceremonial coat was the Sanchez family heirloom—every head of the family wore it the day they took the seat. The family held it as sacred as the name itself. And this one, the one on my back, my mother had tailored to my frame stitch by stitch with her own hands before she died. My father kept it pristine for twenty years, waiting for the day I took over the regional branch.
I clutched my shoulders and staggered to my feet.
The ice-cold fabric against my skin made me shake uncontrollably.
Judy glanced in my direction, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
After a few seconds of silence, she gripped Howard's hand tight and said softly,
"Howard, that rag he's wearing is nothing worth having. The style's been dead for years."
"And it's soaked in dirty water. You'd catch a cold the second you put it on. We don't need it—come on, I'll take you to buy something new..."
"No!"
Howard shoved Judy out of his arms.
Tears spilled down his face instantly.
"I want Dustin's coat—I want that one! The only reason you won't give it to me is because you feel sorry for him, isn't it? He matters more to you than I do?!"
"No, I just think it's ugly and it's wet..."
"I think it's beautiful! I don't care if it's wet, I want it!"
Judy's body went rigid for two seconds.
"Judy, you obviously feel sorry for him..."
"I don't!"
The words snapped out of her without a breath's hesitation. Then she turned to me, voice flat and cold.
"Dustin, you heard him. Howard wants the coat. Take it off."
I looked at the wall of people packed tight around us,
then stared at Judy, my voice barely holding together.
"Judy... you want me to strip? Right here?"
"Strip!"
The word hit the air and the crowd went feral.
They crushed in tighter, eyes crawling over every line of my body, faces twisted with vicious amusement.
"Strip! Miss Henson said strip—what are you waiting for?!"
"That's right, Miss Henson! Teach this creep a lesson! Show him who runs this city!"
The man closest to me saw I still hadn't moved,
