—Mabel—
Suddenly, a black Maybach pulled up in the driveway.
Absolutely no one but Angelina stepped out, in a yellow dress that clung to her frame and didn't make it past her thighs.
She tossed her hair in the wind and her overly red-painted lips curled with a smile as she strutted toward us.
She threw her arms open. “Mama!”
“What are you doing here?”
Mama Emelda's voice was sharp and cold. And her face had a scowl.
Angelina blinked dramatically and lowered her hands. “Oh, Mama. You don't recognize me?”
“I never said that. I asked why you’re on my property—uninvited.”
Angelina swallowed. “I'm sorry, Mama. I thought you were duly notified of my visit. But now I see that information wasn't passed across as expected.”
She paused and glanced at Alec.
“Hello, Alec.” She batted her la
