Layla's POV:
The Glen Villa echoed with a shout. "You slut, how dare you come back here!"
I barely reached the door before I saw Melanie.
Her once-perfect hairstyle was in disarray, and the delicate bow that had adorned her head was now lying forgotten on the floor nearby. It was clear from the look of her, wild-eyed and trembling that in her rage, she'd yanked it off herself.
Melanie's vanity was a force to be reckoned with, as sharp and poisonous as her jealousy.
She despised every woman more beautiful than her, and as a child, I'd been forced to stand beside her at social events, my clothes simple and worn, a scrawny duckling next to her elegant swan.
I remembered the Christmas dance I'd begged to attend in high school. To make a dress, I'd secretly scavenged scraps of fabric from
