Even my father laughed, shaking his head as if Chad had just made a witty joke instead of humiliating his sister-in-law.
“You really should have married an ambitious man, Tiana,” added my mother, still sitting on the sofa. “Chad is so committed to our principles.”
I looked at Chad. I looked at his fake Rolex and his rented suit.
He was a mid-level consultant at a company that my company, Nexus Health, was currently auditing for financial irregularities.
He had no idea that the woman he had just knocked off her chair held his career in her hands.
I straightened my spine.
“You’re right, Chad,” I said calmly and deliberately. “I wouldn’t want to lower the property’s value because of the furniture. I stand by my position.”
I walked towards the wall he had indicated and leaned against it with my arms crossed.
From that point of view, I could see everything: the fake bag, the fake smiles, and the very real rot that was eating away at my family’s heart.
Let them keep their chairs.
The land on which their house of cards was built belonged to me.
“Dinner’s ready!” announced my mother, her voice ringing like a church bell calling the faithful.
We entered the dining room, recently renovated in the style of a French château. A long mahogany table was set under a crystal chandelier, seating twelve people.
It was a masterpiece of exclusion.
A silk damask tablecloth cascaded to the floor. Gilded presentation plates shimmered. Each place setting was adorned with a hand-calligraphed nameplate.
I looked through the table to find mine.
Cards for my parents.
Cards for Jasmine and Chad.
Cards for the pastor and his wife.
There was even a card for Chad’s assistant who had accompanied him.
No card for Tiana.
I stopped behind an empty chair towards the end, thinking it had been forgotten. I reached for the backrest…
—and Jasmine cleared her throat, in a dry and aggressive tone.
“Oh, Tiana,” she said in a falsely sweet voice, “that seat isn’t for you. It’s for Deacon Miller. He’s late, but he’s coming.”
I stared at her.
