As Britney stormed out of the mansion, her heels stomping the tiles like they owed her money, she bumped shoulders with someone by the door.
"Hi, big sis," Sarah said sweetly, her voice soft like butter on warm bread.
Britney paused just enough to give her a long, disgusted stare—the kind that could melt paint—and kept walking like Sarah was invisible. No hello. No insult. Just pure, royal snub.
Sarah blinked, then shrugged and returned to her ice cream like nothing happened. "Whatever," she muttered under her breath, licking a huge scoop of vanilla like it held the answers to life. "She probably tripped on her own ego," she added with a sly grin.
Then she paused mid-lick, her eyes narrowing as she looked toward the hallway.
"Wait a sec," she mumbled. "First it was Clifford that left here looking like a chewed-up pencil... then Britney storms out like she swallowed fire... What's going on in this house today?"
She looked down at her ice cream.
