At my question, Nicole furrowed her brows. Turning away, she grabbed two around-the-world tickets.
One was for her.
The other...
My heart skipped a beat.
It had my name on it?
I froze.
I had once mentioned to her before that I wanted to travel the world before the wedding.
'Was she really giving me a ticket?'
But in the next instant, Nicole tore the tickets apart. With a casual flick, she tossed the pieces into the air, and they fluttered down around me.
Then she picked up her phone and said aloud, "Rebook the tickets for Charles and me."
She clicked her tongue and then nodded. "Mm, that’s right. Change it.”
After the call, she glanced at me, her lips curling into a smug, disdainful smile. She brushed past me, her shoulder grazing mine as she walked away.
I couldn’t help but wonder if buying me the plane ticket had been merely a show for her mother. Someone who disliked me as much as she did wouldn't act kindly without an ulterior motive.
I touched the brooch on my chest, my fingers lingering for a moment.
I closed my eyes.
It was the only keepsake my father had left me, and it was my family’s centuries-old inheritance.
There was no way I’d give it up.
Carefully, I removed the brooch, placed it in a velvet box, and tucked it into my suitcase. I had planned to leave that night, but then an email notification arrived in my inbox.
It was an invitation to the memorial concert for my father’s fifth anniversary.
They wanted me, his only living descendant, to perform his classic pieces.
I hesitated for a moment, considering the timing.
Then, after a moment, I called Sharon Kennedy.
“Would it be all right if I arrived a couple of days later?”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
"Have you changed your mind?" Sharon asked.
"How could I?" I chuckled softly. "I’ve just got something to take care of."
After a beat, she said, "Alright, I believe you. I’ll wait for you.”
A wave of warmth washed over me.
"Okay," I said softly.
The concert was only two days away.
In the meantime, I didn’t send Nicole any messages.
And, as usual, she didn’t reach out to me either.
I relished the peace, focusing on practicing my father’s music. Though I had it all memorized, I still wanted to present the best version of myself at his memorial concert.
...
That morning, I woke up early.
But when I opened the red velvet box, the brooch was gone.
I froze.
A sense of dread slowly crept over me.
I immediately called Nicole.