Eve's greatest problem wasn't her sister or her dumbass husband... no, it was her parents. Not only had they succeeded in turning her into a maid in her own home, but they were also so proud of it.
Peeling through the soft skin of green apples, footsteps echoed from behind.
"Eve... you're cooking?" Mrs. Fineland half-croaked like a frog.
Eve only nodded and continued with what she was doing. She had no time to waste on her.
"Since you're in the kitchen, please make me a glass of smoothie, and one for your father."
Eve nodded and continued with her tasks as she watched her mother tighten the towel over her breast and sway her gentle figure towards the direction of the fridge. Wasn't she ashamed, walking around her house in so little clothing? But then, what did she expect from a woman who had advised one of her daughters to scatter the home of the other?
