Chapter 13: The In-Laws
The pile of presents only made Ravi scowl harder. “Don’t think a few baubles will wash away your shame,” she spat, voice sharp as a slap. “If you’re not embarrassed, I am.”
Cora swallowed the urge to retort. She’d come back for one reason and one reason only. Taking a breath, she put the gifts down gently and said, “Grandma, these were brought by my future husband. The man who dropped them off was his driver.”
Those words did exactly what she hoped—and did exactly what she feared. Ravi’s face shifted in a heartbeat: fury melted into a calculating glint. A grandson-in-law who could afford this sort of gift was in a different league than poor Matt.
“This child has a mind for appearances,” Ravi mused, eyes fixed on the boxes. “But you don’t arrange a marriage without both families present. Does the other side have no manners?”
“Of course they do,” Cora answered, head bowed. “They’ll come properly when the time’s right.”
Laura, Cora’s cousin, who had been hovering nearby like a wasp, couldn’t help herself. “Wow, she got lucky quick,” she sneered. “Cora—you really pulled a rich one fast. I wonder if he’s balding, or has a flat nose. Will he at least be handsome enough to look respectable?”
“You’ll see when they come to make it official,” Cora said coolly. She refused to give Laura the satisfaction of a fight.
Inside, Austin was listening to every word. He filed a clean report straight to Julian: gifts accepted, Ravi placated, Laura jealous. Julian, glass in hand, listened, lips thinning. He swirled the wine and issued a low order into the phone: This family mustn’t look shabby. Make the display grand. Tomorrow—full show.
⸻
They rose before dawn. Ravi ordered everyone up to scrub the yard and sweep the stoop, barking like a general preparing for inspection. Cora didn’t argue; she fetched water, washed faces, and scrubbed until her arms ached. If she didn’t help, the whole burden would fall on her mother—just as always. No one else in the house bothered to lift a hand.
Ravi’s favoritism was bone-deep. When Laura began to ply her, clinging and cooing about her own pending suitor, Ravi’s face softened immediately. “You’re getting married first, of course,” she told the girl, beaming. “You’ve been promised the bridal chest. Don’t worry, your dowry stays yours.”
Cora felt something cold settle in her chest. The Devs were vultures: always circling, always calculating taxes of shame. She’d seen it long ago—this household survived by sucking whatever it could from its weaker members. If her mother hadn’t been stubborn about staying, Cora would have left them both behind the first chance she’d had.
Outside, a horn blared. Ravi launched forward like a hawk and pointed, breathless with instruction. “What are you standing there for? Go greet them! If you mess up Laura’s engagement, you’ll be out of my house!”
Cora straightened at the doorway and forced the smile she’d practiced a hundred times in mirrors. She moved through the gilded charade because she had to—because there was a whole future at stake that had nothing to do with Laura’s wedding chest or Ravi’s pride. She had to protect her mother. She had to survive.
Behind her, Austin closed the car door and retreated with quiet efficiency. He’d delivered the gifts, read the room, and left. He also made sure every detail—who said what, who had behaved how—reached Julian. The order to make a show had already been relayed down the chain.
Tomorrow, the house would glitter. For now, Cora walked forward to meet the guests, her face composed, her heart a little harder than it had been that morning.