“Mom.”
She looked down.
Her son had Brett’s dark hair and her grandmother Opal’s stubborn mouth.
At twelve, he should have been thinking about basketball, whether his tie made him look ridiculous, and how much chocolate cake he could steal before dinner officially ended.
Instead, he was watching his father walk into a ballroom with another woman.
“Don’t cry,” Micah whispered.
Audrey wiped beneath one eye.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m allowed one.”
“One what?”
“Tear.”
Micah considered.
“Okay.”
Then his gaze moved across the room.
Toward Sierra.
Toward the gold wheat brooch.
His expression changed.
Audrey felt his fingers tighten.
“Is that Grandma Opal’s?”
“Great-Grandma Opal.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Micah’s face went red.
“Dad gave it to her?”
Audrey said nothing.
There was no other explanation.
Brett had taken the brooch three weeks earlier.
He had promised to repair it.
Now it rested above Sierra Vaughn’s heart.
Not lost.
Not forgotten.
Given.
Micah stood.
Audrey caught his sleeve.
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No scene.”
“He stole it.”
“I know.”
“And she’s wearing it.”
“I can see that.”
“So do something.”
Audrey looked around the ballroom.
