"Stepsister?" Kia screeched. She spun the chair around. "Like... Clueless stepsister? Or Flowers in the Attic stepsister?"
"Legally, no blood," Kelsie said, her eyes glued to Angelique's face on the screen. "Judge's dad married her mom when Judge was sixteen. She was... eight, I think?"
"That is still weird, Kelsie. That is super weird."
"He always told me she was sick," Kelsie murmured. "Autoimmune issues. Trauma. He said she was fragile. That taking care of her was a 'family obligation'."
She reached for the mouse. Her hand was shaking. "Let me see."
Kelsie opened a new tab and logged into Facebook. Judge didn't use social media, but his family did. She went to his Aunt Lydia's page. She scrolled back years.
She found an album titled Thanksgiving 2018.
Kelsie clicked through. There.
A photo of Judge and Angelique sitting on a porch swing. Judge was leaning in, holding a blanket around her shoulders. He was looking at her with an expression Kelsie had never seen directed at her. It wasn't just protective. It was... reverent. Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
In another photo, he was feeding her something-maybe medicine, maybe food. His hand was cupping her jaw.
"Look at that," Kia whispered, pointing at the screen. "Look at his eyes."
"I see it," Kelsie said.
"That's not 'big brother'," Kia said. "That's 'soulmate'."
Kelsie felt like she was going to throw up.
"He has her saved as 'A'," Kelsie said. "He hides her texts. He runs to her when she's in pain. He prioritizes her over me."
"And he gaslights you into thinking you're crazy for being jealous of his 'sister'," Kia finished. "This is sick, Kelsie. This is emotional incest."
Kelsie stood up, pacing the small room. "I need to know for sure. I need to know how deep this goes."
"You have the evidence right there."
"I need to hear it," Kelsie said. "From someone who knows."
Her phone rang. It was Judge.
Kelsie stared at the screen. Hubby. She should change that name.
She let it ring.
It went to voicemail. A moment later, a notification popped up.
Kelsie played the message on speaker.
"Kelsie. Where are you? The card isn't working. Did you cancel it? Call me back. Kara expects us at seven."
His voice was clipped. Annoyed. Not worried. Just managing his assets. Managing his reputation.
"I'm going to Aunt Lydia's," Kelsie said, grabbing her purse.
"The old lady?" Kia asked.
"She knows everything. She's the family historian. And she hates secrets almost as much as she loves gin."
"I'm coming with you."
"No," Kelsie said. "I need to do this alone. I need to drive."
"Take my car," Kia said, tossing Kelsie the keys. "Be careful."
