Chapter 4

I kept a firm grip on the silver comb, refusing to let go.

"You can't play with this."

Ben probably didn't expect to be turned down and instantly pouted.

"Mr. Lucas said I can use anything in this house!"

"This belongs to me." I pulled the silver comb back toward myself.

Instead of letting go, he suddenly yanked hard with both hands, clutching the handle.

"I want it!"

In the middle of our tug-of-war, a sharp snap rang out. The silver comb broke clean in half, with one piece dropping straight to the floor.

I froze.

When I was ten, my grandmother sat by the window, using this very comb to braid my hair for the last time. Back then, I even complained that she was taking too long, nagging her to hurry up so we could go buy candy.

The next morning, I could never wake her up again.

Over the past twenty years, I had moved four times, and I always kept this comb close. Now, it was snapped in half by a total stranger's child.

Seeing the look on my face, Ben panicked and took a step back, bursting into loud, frantic tears.

Lucas and Hallie rushed in moments later.

"What happened?"

Ben threw himself into Lucas' arms, crying so hard he could barely catch his breath.

"She wouldn't let me play with it, and then she yanked it away, and... and it broke!"

Hallie crouched to comfort him, then turned to look at me with a face full of guilt.

"Mrs. Bolton, I am so sorry. Ben didn't mean to do it."

I reached down to pick up the broken half from the floor.

Lucas, however, took it before I could and glanced at it.

"It's just an old comb. I'll have my assistant buy you a brand-new set tomorrow—silver, gold, whatever you want."

I looked up at him.

"Don't you know this was left to me by my grandmother?"

Lucas stiffened for a second.

During our first year of marriage, I had told him the story about my grandmother and this comb. That day, he held me in his arms for a long time, promising he would cherish every moment we shared together.

But now, looking down at the crying boy in his arms, he hesitated for a few seconds before speaking up.

"He's just a child. He had no idea what this comb meant to you. Don't go scaring him."

I took the broken pieces back from his hands.

"He didn't know, but you did."

Lucas' expression darkened.

"Emma, I get that you're upset, but the thing is already broken. Ben was terrified out of his mind just now. How do you expect a six-year-old child to pay for this?"

Hallie spoke up, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It's all my fault for not raising him better. Mrs. Bolton, blame me if you have to, but please don't be hard on the child."

She took all the blame, yet she didn't ask Ben to apologize even once.

I looked at her, then looked back at Lucas. The way he instinctively shielded that mother and child looked so natural, as if that was where he belonged all along.

"Get out," I said.

Lucas frowned. "You need to calm down."

"This is my room. All of you, get the hell out!"

He probably wanted to say something more, but Ben began sobbing even louder in his arms. So Hallie softly urged him to take the child outside first.

After the bedroom door closed, I sat down on the floor and wrapped the two broken pieces of the silver comb back into the soft cloth.

It could be repaired, but it would never return to what it once was. Just like certain relationships—the moment a crack appears, the ending is already written.

At dinnertime, Lucas knocked on the door, telling me to come out and eat.

I didn't answer.

Half an hour later, he pushed the door open and placed a luxury jewelry shopping bag on the table.

"I had my assistant buy a new one."

Inside was an intricate, expensive gold comb carved with gardenia flowers.

"Hallie feels guilty about earlier, too. Come and eat with us in a bit, and we can just move past this whole thing."

I didn't even touch the bag.

Instead, I tucked the wrapped, broken silver comb deep inside my suitcase.