Sloane was hunching her shoulders, mimicking a posture of defeat.
"Please, Kason, don't look at me," Sloane whined in a mocking, trembling voice.
"Posture correction requires a spine, Sloane," Elease said. Her voice was cool, cutting through their laughter like a blade. "Something you lack."
The group jumped. Fannye dropped the dress. It pooled on the floor in a shimmer of silver.
They turned around.
They saw Elease. But it wasn't the Elease they knew. This woman was standing tall, her hands loose at her sides, her chin lifted. The hoodie looked out of place, but the way she wore it made it look like a deliberate fashion statement.
Fannye recovered first. Her shock turned into a sneer.
"Elease! We heard the news. Kason finally kicked you out?"
Blair snickered behind her hand. "Is that why you're wearing rags? Need a loan?"
Elease stepped closer. She invaded their personal space, forcing them to shuffle back.
"I'm here to shop, Fannye," Elease said. "Unlike you, who is here to browse."
Fannye's face flushed pink. It was a sore spot. Franklin kept her on a strict allowance.
"I have Daddy's credit card!" Fannye snapped, crossing her arms.
"Daddy's card has a limit," Elease noted dryly. "And his company has a liquidity crisis. You might want to check the balance before you embarrass yourself."
Fannye's eyes widened. "You shut up! You don't know anything!"
A Sales Associate hurried over. Her name tag read Sarah. She looked at the dropped dress, then at Elease's hoodie, and her lip curled.
"Miss, this section is for appointment clients only," Sarah said, positioning herself between Elease and Fannye. She clearly knew who the "safe" bet was.
Sloane smirked. "See? Trash belongs outside."
Elease glanced at Sarah's name tag.
"Sarah. You work on commission, correct?"
Sarah blinked, caught off guard. "Yes..."
"Then you're making a mistake betting on the wrong horse," Elease said.
She raised a hand and pointed to a mannequin in the center display. It was wearing a sharp, structured black power suit with a deep V-neck and tailored trousers. The price tag was discreetly hidden, but everyone knew it was over twelve thousand dollars.
"I want that," Elease said. "In size two. And the heels to match. Four inches. Black."
The group burst out laughing. It was a harsh, screeching sound.
"You can't afford a button on that jacket!" Blair shrieked.
Fannye stepped forward, feigning pity. "Oh, Elease, don't do this to yourself. It's so sad to watch. Tell you what, I'm sure I can find a lovely scarf for you in the clearance section. A big one. It would be my treat."
Elease tilted her head. Her eyes, cold and sharp, locked onto Fannye's.
"A treat? Like the camping trip you arranged for me when I was twelve? The one I never came back from?"
The laughter died instantly. Confusion, then a flicker of fear, replaced the mockery on their faces.
"You... what are you talking about?" Fannye stammered, her face paling. "You got lost. You were always clumsy."
"Was I? Or did someone tell me about a 'secret shortcut' through the woods that led straight to a black van?" Elease's voice was soft, but each word was a stiletto heel grinding into a nerve. "You always hated sharing Daddy's attention, didn't you, Fannye?"
The insult landed. It wasn't just a memory; it was an accusation that hung in the air like poison.
Fannye's face turned a deep, ugly red. "You're crazy! You were sick! You made it all up!"
Sloane stepped forward, her face twisted in anger on Fannye's behalf. She reached out to shove Elease.
"Get out, you freak!"
