Tailor-Made

Sophia, seeing she was getting the stink-eye from both of them, quickly held out her busted hand. "Grandma, seriously, some jerk hammered my hand a few days ago. Comminuted fracture, the works. I was so messed up, I didn't even wanna get outta bed."

The old lady raised an eyebrow. "How convenient."

Sophia's eyes welled up. "It's the same deal as Ava's hand. Left hand, four fingers. Cops think it's some kind of payback."

And everyone knew who she was pointing at.

The old lady snorted. "Yeah, right. Why would they only come after you, and nobody else?"

Sophia sniffled, all wounded. "Maybe... maybe I was getting too close to Liam, and Ava got bent outta shape."

The implication was clear as day: Ava had hired someone to do it.

Ava kept her cool, but a flicker of disgust crossed her face. This chick was getting better and better at playing the victim and throwing shade.