2: 2
His palm cracked across my face, leaving a burning sting.
My ears rang, my vision swam, and it took a second to focus again.
Wilfred shook out his hand and turned to the yard full of relatives, his face lit with smug triumph.
"Don't push your luck. You're in Swanson Hollow now. You do what I say."
I clutched my cheek, shaking with rage, and slapped him right back.
A few of the women rushed in the moment I was distracted.
They pinned me down and yanked hard at the shirtdress I was wearing.
"Hold still. It'll be over once we've checked you."
I shoved with everything I had, but five pairs of hands were far more than I could fight off alone.
One of the buttons at my collar had already popped loose.
Seeing me still fighting, his mother stamped her foot in fury.
"Hold her down. Let her learn what the rules are."
She spun around and charged back into the house.
Wilfred wouldn't even look at me now. He paced the yard with his hands behind his back, actually humming a little tune.
His father, meanwhile, sidled over, his eyes gleaming as they fixed on the two suitcases I'd brought.
They were packed with the gifts I'd chosen so carefully, along with a few changes of clothes.
"Open the cases. Anything that comes through my door, I get to look over first, as the father-in-law."
He shot a glance at the nephew beside him.
The nephew stepped up and dragged the cases into the middle of the yard.
He couldn't get the locks open, so he grabbed a screwdriver and pried savagely at the combination locks.
With a sharp crack, the clasp gave way.
My clothes, my makeup, my toiletries, all of it dumped out onto the dirt of the yard.
"Come look, everybody. City women sure know how to burn money. Nothing but gaudy junk."
The man held up my underwear and shook it out in front of the dozens of people in the yard.
The aunts swarmed in, pawing through my private things like they were fighting over cabbage at a market.
"This fabric's really nice. Perfect for my daughter."
"What's this bottle? Why does it smell so good? I'm taking this home."
A young wife held up my silk nightgown and shouted to her friend.
"This one's so slippery. You wear this at night, go seduce your man with it."
The whole yard broke into laughter.
My makeup got walked off with, my silk nightgown stretched out of shape.
My temples throbbed with fury, but pinned down like that I could do nothing.
Somewhere in the scramble, a jade bracelet slid out of my bag and turned two slow circles on the ground.
My grandmother had slipped it off her own wrist and pressed it into my palm before she died.
She'd told me it had come down from her own grandmother, worn by four generations.
She said to carry it whenever I had somewhere important to be, and it would keep me safe.
His father's gaze snapped to it at once.
He bent down and picked it up, turning it over and over against the sunlight, his eyes darting greedily.
"Well now, this is something good. Smooth as anything to the touch. Must be worth a fair bit."
I don't know where the strength came from, but I wrenched free of their grip.
I snatched the bracelet back out of his hand and clutched it hard against me.
"Don't touch my grandmother's things!"
His father's face went dark on the spot.
"Once you're through my door, everything you've got belongs to the Swanson family."
"Besides, every stitch you've got on, wasn't it bought with my son's money?"
He grabbed a pair of fire tongs from against the wall and brought them down hard on the back of the hand shielding the bracelet.
A crack.
The bracelet broke into several pieces, the shards biting into the flesh of my palm.
Blood welled up between my fingers, soaking into the white splinters of jade.
I bowed my head, staring at the blood filling my hand and the fragments that could never be pieced back together, and my whole body shook violently.
Wilfred came over, glanced down at the broken jade on the ground, and spoke without a shred of concern.
"It's just a cheap glass ring. So it broke. Who's the long face for?"
"Once we're married, I'll buy you ten gold-and-silver ones. Plenty of face for you."
His father flung the fire tongs to the ground and jabbed a finger at my face, cursing.
"Not even married in yet and already guarding your food. Ungrateful little thing."
"A stubborn mule like this needs three days locked in the donkey pen, half-starved. Give it some bran-water and it'll behave!"
The relatives around us actually nodded along.
"That's right. Two days locked up and she'll fall in line."
"The last one who wouldn't listen came out on her knees after a single night."
I wiped hard at the corner of my eye and refused to let the tears fall.
Slowly I reached out with my uninjured hand and pulled my phone from the side pocket of my dress.
A few of the women instinctively lunged to snatch it.
But Wilfred waved them back, stopping them.
"It's fine, let her call. I'd like to see just what kind of trick she thinks she can pull today."





