Happy Wife

Daphne asked sweetly, but Atticus noticed the undercurrent of anger. His eyes widened. 

"Sunshine, of course I don't mean you, I know you―" Atticus took a quick look at the surroundings for eavesdroppers before whispering, "―are a very powerful prodigy." 

But Daphne didn't seem to be appeased.  In fact, she seemed to look even frostier as she took a step back. Her gaze tightened into slits as she folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows knitted together in a steely scowl.

"You're nothing like him!" Atticus tried to reassure her, trying to hold her in his arms, but she shrugged him away, shaking her head in disappointment. 

"No, Atticus, I am just like him. I am weak. Someone who tries to live in a world that doesn't favor people like us," Daphne said, drawing herself up to her full height as she stared down her arrogant husband.