A Guest In Her Home

Brandi's blood boils in Maureen's glass office. Suspension landed her here early, yet the rules still trap her until six like some after-school joke. She fires insults at her mother. Every jab digs deeper, trying to spark something—anything—from the woman who just shrinks. Maureen stiffens her spine for half a beat, then folds again. Brandi watches with cold disgust. You can't respect someone who won't even respect herself. The door opens. Ava Best strolls in wearing that killer suit and a predator's smile. Her eyes sweep Brandi once, hungry, and the compliments fall fast and dirty. Brandi shoots her mom a desperate look, begging for intervention, but Maureen manages only a weak introduction. Ava's charm curdles the second she learns the fight is family business. Fire hovers on her tongue. Maureen's knees bend fast; she pleads, voice cracking, offering anything. Desperate to salvage her mother's spine, Brandi cuts in. Yet Maureen barrels past her, volunteering Brandi for the weekend like spare luggage. Ava snaps up the deal before the words finish echoing. Betrayal flashes hot behind Brandi's eyes. She spits agreement because there's nothing else left, hurt gnawing raw. She doesn't know it yet, but payback is already lining up, and Ava holds the key.