Chapter 6 "No need." She turned her face to the window, watching the world streak by. Gideon Holt's brow pinched, annoyed by her refusal, but he still offered an explanation. "Elaine didn't mean to hurt you last time. She spooks easily and doesn't handle a mess well. If you'd signed the statement to drop it sooner, she wouldn't have sat in there paying for it, and I wouldn't have... cut off your meds." He paused, and a trace of stiffness slid into his voice. "When you get down to it, you share some blame. Don't hold it against her forever." So that was it. Angela Summers felt the knife twist again. The pain folded her in on herself. His rare show of "remembering" and "making it up to her" existed for one reason-so his precious Elaine wouldn't trip over the legal fallout. He just didn't want his lawful wife creating trouble later. How very thoughtful of him. The car rolled to a stop at the commissary. Gideon led her in. For this era, the shelves were a small miracle-goods stacked high, choices everywhere. "See anything you want?" he asked at the counter, his tone like a superior tossing favors down the chain. Angela stared at the floor. She wanted nothing. "If you won't pick, I will." Patience gone, Gideon pointed at the glass case. "That one, that, and that." A length of bright red polyester fabric, a jar of cold cream, and a Parker fountain pen. "Wrap them all," he told the clerk. The clerk smiled and reached for paper, but a soft voice-trembling and elated-cut in. "Gideon? Didn't I tell you to stop buying me these? You're spoiling me again!" Angela lifted her head. Elaine Ward had slipped in at some point, eyes rimmed red, gazing up at Gideon as if gratitude and scolding were the same thing. "You're so good to me... How am I ever supposed to pay you back?" Her voice broke, fragile as spun sugar. Gideon stalled, mouth partway open, as if he meant to say the gifts weren't for Elaine. In the end he said nothing. "You're on your own right now," he said mildly. "No man around. We grew up together. Looking after you is the least I can do." He took the neatly wrapped bundle and-without a flicker of hesitation-loaded it into Elaine's arms. She clutched the parcels like treasure and burst into tears again, staring at him as if a miracle had happened. Only then did Gideon seem to remember the pale woman beside him. He looked back at Angela and said, almost as an afterthought, "That's my allowance for the month. I'll get you something next birthday." Was there going to be a next time? A cold hush drifted through Angela's chest. There would be no next. Gideon Holt, there will not be another birthday for us. Since they'd run into Elaine, Gideon told her to ride along, and they would drop her first. Angela and Elaine sat shoulder to shoulder in the back. The engine had barely rumbled to life when Elaine leaned close, voice low and smug. "Angela Summers, you really had the nerve to sic the cops on me? And look-what good did it do? I walked right out." She edged closer, whisper-thin and venomous. "When Gideon forced you to sign that statement, I bet it felt like dying. Also, I knew today was your birthday. All I had to do was nudge him, and see? Every last thing landed in my lap.' }) "Angela, learn your place. So you married him-so what? You will never measure up to me." Florence Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She's also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.