Rebecca's eyes, at that moment, turned sharp and filled with open disgust. The warmth she had worn earlier vanished completely, replaced by a coldness that made the entire room feel suddenly smaller.
"If she doesn't want to stay," Rebecca said, her voice laced with contempt, "then let her leave."
Her tone was firm—cutting—and it echoed with a sharp finality that made Valentina's breath catch in her chest.
"This is a family home," Rebecca continued, stepping forward now, each word slower and heavier than the last. "If she doesn't want to be around the family she married into, then maybe she shouldn't be here at all. No one's begging her to stay. She's free to walk out that door. And nobody—nobody—will hold her accountable."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Valentina could barely move. The air between her and Rebecca had grown heavy, filled with unsaid tension. Every word Rebecca had spoken didn't just sound like frustration—it sounded like resentment.
