"Mama."
Before Eva could even speak, Serena tugged at their mother's sleeve, lips pouting. "Eva's dress," she said sweetly. "I only asked her why she came home so late and how she got such a beautiful gown, but she wouldn't explain. She got upset instead."
"Is that true, Eva?" her mother snapped, turning sharp eyes toward her. But Eva could tell—she wasn't asking because she wanted the truth.
She opened her mouth to answer, but her father's voice cut through like thunder.
"So, where did you get that dress?"
"A man?" her mother accused at once, eyes narrowing. "Another one of those men you've slept with?"
"I didn't sleep with anyone!" Eva's voice broke as she clutched her arms tightly, twisting her fingers together. "You never want to hear me out. You never listen."
"How dare you raise your voice to your father?!" Mr. Crestmont roared, his face red with fury. Eva flinched, stepping back until her shoulder met the cold wall.
