The battle had only just begun, and tomorrow night, the rest of Dallas would see exactly who held the keys to the Ralston empire.

The garage was cool and smelled of damp concrete and car exhaust.

I unlocked my SUV and sat inside for a long minute, listening to the quiet hum of the engine.

The tension in my shoulders began to fade, replaced by a cold, sharp focus.

The next evening, the heavy Texas heat clung to the glass of my bedroom window.

I watched Ruby and Hazel sit on my bed, their small hands tracing the silver beadwork on my navy gown.

“Are you going to be late, Mommy?” Ruby asked, her voice quiet.

“No, sweetie,” I said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be home before you’re asleep.”

“Grandma said we don’t belong in this house anymore,” Hazel whispered, looking down at the carpet.

I tightened the strap of my silver heel and took her hands in mine.

“This house belongs to us,” I told her, keeping my voice steady and soft. “And nobody is ever going to make you feel small again.”