Settling the Score — Episode 8

Claire, didn't the family have a new dress made for you? Why are you still wearing this Couldn't get used to it or don't know how to wear it? The two wives beside her exchanged a glance. Where's the new dress? The staff said it was sent to your room. It didn't fit. Didn't fit? That was custom made.

He stared at me. Do you know what occasion this is? Dad's 50th birthday. You're standing in the hall dressed like this, with all the guests watching? Alex, that's enough. Claire probably just isn't used to this kind of setting.

Before she finished, I turned and went back upstairs. When I came down, I had the dress in my hands. In front of everyone, I shook it open. Under the chandelier, the stitching on the inner hem had been neatly unpicked.

The tear ran up from the seam. One push of a finger and it gaped open half a foot. Custom made. I threw the dress onto the coffee table.

So I tore up my own new dress and wore an old one to the party instead? Do I look like I have something wrong with my head? Silence spread around us. Several guests stood with wine glasses in hand, staring at the dress on the table.

Richard finally turned. He glanced at the dress, then at me. Then he waved at the butler. Take the dress away.

He pulled me aside, voice low. Don't push forward today. Sit somewhere in the corner. Once the cake's cut, I'll have someone call you over.

He turned to go greet the real estate developer. Iris followed. No one looked at the dress on the table anymore. Your daughter's really something.

Quite a looker. He pointed at Iris. Richard's hand paused midways around his glass. He didn't correct him.

I swirled the tea in my cup. The banquet was midway through. A servant rushed in and whispered something in Vivian's ear.