Chapter 145

When Flora White realized no one was paying attention to her—everyone in the room was focused on their meal—she slammed her chopsticks down with a sharp clatter.

"Maya's getting married on the sixth of July. You two should come early to help out. No need for extravagant gifts—just five dollars each will do."

Luna nearly laughed aloud. In their village, wedding gifts rarely exceeded a few cents. Yet Flora had the audacity to demand five dollars.

"Auntie, we don’t have the money. We won’t be attending Maya’s wedding," Luna said calmly, stirring her bowl of porridge. "After all, you didn’t bring gifts when my sister got married. And when I marry, I won’t bother inviting you either—no need to trouble yourselves."

Flora’s face darkened. "What kind of talk is that? How can family skip a wedding? People will say you’ve got no conscience! Besides, you grew up in our—"

Selene slammed her palm on the table. "Auntie, we pay you nineteen dollars every month. Why was my sister starving then?" Her voice trembled with anger. "And now you dare ask for more?"

"Who said she starved? She chose not to eat!" Flora retorted, lifting her chin defiantly.

Luna seized Flora’s wrist. "Heaven sees everything. Keep doing evil, and you’ll face the consequences."

Flora gasped in pain, wrenching free before bolting for the door. "If lightning strikes, let it hit the old lady first! I’ve delivered the message—I’m leaving!"

Luna took a long sip of warm cornmeal porridge, letting the heat spread through her.

"What happened to Aunt Flora?" Selene sighed. "They weren’t like this when Mom and Dad were alive."

"Who cares?" Luna narrowed her eyes. "I’d love to see what kind of future Maya will have with Frank Harris."

The grudges from her past life—she’d make sure the entire White family tasted them.

Locked in her room, with even the windows nailed shut, Maya sat docile as a kitten when Frank arrived with the betrothal gifts.

"Running is pointless. Might as well make the best of it," she murmured, combing her hair before the mirror. "The Harris family has money. Better than ending up on the streets."

She began packing her dowry, carefully folding the new clothes Frank had brought.

In the main hall, Ethan White circled the gifts eagerly. "Grandma, I want to propose to Lisa Wilson tomorrow!"

Clara White snorted. "What’s the rush? Lisa’s already twenty-three. If anyone should be anxious, it’s her family."

"But what if—"

"Useless!" The old woman jabbed his forehead. "Pathetic, acting like this before the bride even enters the house!"

Ethan retreated sheepishly, though his gaze remained fixed on the slightly used radio among the gifts.