NARA
I blinked at her and for a second, I actually thought I heard wrong.
“…What?”
“Since when do I need permission to come back to my father’s house?” I added.
Danielle’s eyes narrowed. She looked me over slowly, the way she always did, like she was searching for something to pick apart.
“Since you got married,” she shot back immediately. “Since you became Mrs. Jared Wilson.”
I frowned. “What does that—”
“It means,” she cut in, pushing herself off the doorframe, “you stopped being a daughter of this family the moment you walked out as his wife.”
I stared at her.
“You belong to your husband now,” she continued, her tone sharp. “So go back to him. To your cursed husband and his cursed family.”
Something snapped.
Before I even thought about it, my hand was already in the air.
The
