REBECCA
Reiner, James, and I all watched in shock as my foster mom ran towards her sister-in-law, her face a depiction of pure, white-hot anger: by the time James got out of his shock and went to intervene, Frances had already slapped Sheila square in the face, leaving her gasping.
“You get the name of my daughter out of your mouth, you evil b***h” Frances growled as the two of them grappled in a vicious fight.
“Once you keep her at a good distance from my son and daughter!” the other one yelled. “I won’t let her wash out my bloodline!”
“Oh, so it’s your bloodline, now? If only, it’s mine and my brother’s!”
Sheila pushed Frances – and I felt my heart stop when I saw her momentarily losing her balance.
No!
I heard myself scream out her name – and Reiner’s arms dug into my skin
