Back then, the hurt in Broderick's eyes-just thinking about it now still made Leslie's chest ache.
She stood, walking with Lydia to the break room, her voice blunt and without a trace of politeness. "No thanks. Tea you made? I wouldn't dare drink it. Broderick wouldn't either."
Broderick was right outside, and Lydia didn't dare raise her voice.
She gritted her teeth. "Leslie, do you seriously think marrying Mr. Ackerley means you've got it made? One night apart and you're already forgetting your manners? Can't even call me 'sister' anymore?"
Sister? Lydia? What a joke.
Leslie let out a mocking laugh.
Was this really her home?
If Lydia hadn't slipped up in her past life, Leslie would've died thinking her "family" actually cared about her. But truth was, they'd plotted
