My SIL Crossed The Line When She Kicked My Kids Out Of Her Party So I Got Revenge

“Look at all the decorations!” Jake gasped, pointing at the elaborate display. “They even have fog machines!”

“And look at those skeletons at the guesthouse!” Tommy added, his eyes wide at the professionally-lit landscaping.

That’s when I saw Isla standing at the top of the marble steps in an identical, but clearly designer, Superwoman costume. Her husband Roger wore what had to be a movie-quality Superman suit, and their son matched in miniature.

The fabric of their costumes caught the light in a way ours didn’t, and Isla’s cape seemed to float perfectly as she stepped down to meet us.

My stomach dropped. Beside me, I felt Dan tense.

“Oh my,” Isla’s voice dripped honey-coated venom as we approached. “What an unfortunate coincidence.” She adjusted her perfect hair, the diamond bracelet at her wrist catching the light. “Though I must say, the resemblance between our costumes is rather… loose.”

“Isla—” Dan started, his jaw tight.

“You see,” she cut him off, gesturing to the gathering crowd of guests behind her, “we simply can’t have two Superman families at the party. It would confuse the guests.”

Her perfect red lips curved into a predatory smile. “You’ll either need to go home and change, wear something from our spare clothes, or…” She waved a manicured hand dismissively. “Head out.”

Roger stood behind her, trying to hide his smirk behind a champagne flute. Their son, Maxwell, stared at my boys with that same superior expression I’d seen so often on Isla’s face.

I felt Tommy’s small hand slip into mine, trembling slightly. Jake pressed against Dan’s leg, his earlier excitement deflating like a punctured balloon. That’s when something in me snapped.