“We had an agreement about the holiday budget,” I said. “And since you decided to ignore it, I had to take precautions.”

“You locked my cards?”

Dan’s voice rose an octave, cracking slightly at the end.

“I locked all the joint accounts,” I said. “Including the business line. I initiated a full administrative audit of our overhead this morning.”

Juliette let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

“An audit?” Juliette said. “On the Fourth of July? Are you out of your mind, Annie?”

“It’s automated,” I said. “The bank’s compliance department flagged the unusual spending patterns from last week. I just clicked ‘confirm’ when they sent the verification text.”

“Unusual spending?”

Juliette stepped closer to me.

The smell of her expensive French perfume cut through the damp summer air, thick and suffocating.

“We bought patio furniture, Annie. For *your* house.”

“You bought furniture we didn’t need, with our money, without asking,” I said.

“It was a gift!” Juliette yelled.

“Gifts aren’t charged to the recipient’s credit card, Juliette,” I said.

Sarah looked down at her canvas shoes, her face turning a deep, painful red.