In that moment, I understood Flávia had been right. They needed to stay here and pay for every single thing they had done to me: every word, every gesture, every action. Letting them walk away would have been like releasing a guilty person from prison. And for them, prison would have been too kind. And… there was no jail yet for wicked adoptive mothers.

I took a deep breath and said, turning to leave:

“Don’t forget to polish the silverware and the crystal. If I find it isn’t perfect, ...