Clumps of mud bounced off the hard lid of the coffin with tiny thuds of finality. Olivia Hunter emptied another shovel of dirt into the dark ground, grateful the funeral well-wishers were long gone. She'd dismissed the gravediggers too, preferring to finish the task on her own.
She could already hear the old biddy neighbors tsking about her unladylike behavior--poor dear, they were probably saying, not the same since her lovely stepmother left--but Olivia gave absolutely zero f***s anymore about what they thought.
Her father was dead and the only thing that mattered was vengeance against the heartless b***h who killed him: Olivia's oh-so-lovely stepmother.
Her eyes were out of tears, so dry they felt bruised around the edges. Before her stepmother, the beautiful and spoiled Anya Rolf (t
