The Cane, the Ring, and the Memory
Chapter 07 - The Cane, the Ring, and the Memory
Eleanor asked for a chair, but she did not sit. She gripped the head of her cane and stared at Grace with the kind of focus that made the noise in the ballroom fade. Her eyes moved from Grace’s face to the flower clip, then to the small scar near Grace’s left eyebrow.
“My son had that scar,” Eleanor whispered.
Grace touched it. “I fell when I was little.”
“No. Daniel had one in the same place. He was six and tried to climb a stone fountain to rescue a kitten that did not need rescuing.”
A strange sound escaped Grace, half laugh, half sob.
Eleanor’s hand went to the ring on her right finger, an antique emerald set in gold. “On the day Clara married Daniel, I gave her a smaller ring that matched this one. She said she would pass it to her daughter.”
Grace swallowed. “My adoptive mother had a ring. She never wore it. She kept it wrapped in cloth.”
“What stone?”
“Green. Like glass, but darker.”
Eleanor’s face crumpled.
Vivienne stepped in. “Many rings are green. Many girls have scars. This is emotional manipulation.”
Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you shaking?”
Vivienne looked down. Her hands were indeed trembling.
Sienna pushed past her mother. “Even if some baby existed, that has nothing to do with my wedding.”
Grace stared at her. “You did this to the cake.”
Sienna’s face hardened. “How dare you.”
“I felt your hand.”
“You are desperate.”
Adrian turned to the photographer. “Are your cameras still recording?”
The photographer, a young man who looked terrified to be involved, nodded slowly. “One was on a wide shot.”
Sienna’s mouth opened. “You filmed it?”
“It was part of the cake display.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Then play it.”
“No,” Sienna said quickly. Too quickly.
The word hung in the air.
Eleanor looked at her granddaughter by marriage, or the girl she had believed would become family through Adrian. “Why not?”
Sienna’s eyes flashed. “Because I do not need my wedding turned into an investigation.”
“It already is,” Adrian said. His voice was quiet, but everyone heard the disappointment in it.
Grace looked at him, surprised by the pain in his expression. He was not protecting the perfect evening anymore. He was searching for the truth.
May you like
For the first time since the cake fell, Grace felt the smallest piece of courage return. She wiped frosting from her chin, lifted her head, and looked at the guests who had judged her.
“I didn’t come here to steal anything,” she said. “I came here to work.”
