A Sharp Tongue for My Sister’s Justice

I’ve always had a sharp tongue. I love poking at people’s weak spots and spreading rumors.

When Laura Holt insulted my mom, saying she only gives birth to “losers,” I grabbed a megaphone and went straight to the village square, shouting, “Laura’s two sons: one looks like that butcher over in the east, the other like that carpenter in the west.”

That night, her husband took the night train home, dragged her to file for a divorce.

Another incident. Thomas Clark thought he was untouchable because he was the village secretary, so he grabbed half of our homestead.