Violet had no more words. Only the rustle of her coat as she stormed out echoed behind her. She hesitated at the boutique’s doorway, her manicured fingers trembling slightly as they tightened around the sleek handles of a designer bag. Her lips curled into a smile, one that seemed more stitched on than genuine, and she turned back as if to suppress the bitter aftertaste of the exchange.

“Aunt Lydia, do you have anything else to say?” she asked, her voice delicately poised ...