My Sister Humiliated Me at the Ball Until I Let the Countdown Speak for Me

speeches. I turned it on. The soft click of it activating fed into the ballroom’s sound system, and the room’s hum changed slightly in response.

I brought the microphone down. Not to my mouth. To hers.

Her breathing filled the room, amplified and unfiltered.

“Read,” I said.

I set a folder on the marble in front of her. She looked at it with the eyes of continue reading …