Neither of them did.
“Useless,” Gabriel muttered, shaking his head. “You’re just… useless.”
The words echoed in the air, thick and heavy.
They left the room again, their footsteps fading down the hallway.
I stood there, staring at the broken bowl. The mess they didn’t even try to clean.
And strangely…
I didn’t cry.
Not this time.
Not anymore.
Because I was past that.
By morning, most of my bags were packed. Boxes lined the wall beside my bed—neatly labeled and taped. Clothes, documents, photos I hadn’t burned yet. I folded the last few shirts with quiet precision, not because I cared, but because there was something strangely peaceful about moving in silence.
They all thought I was just packing for the wedding.
No one asked when I’d return. No one even asked if I would return.
That silence confirmed everything.
I moved to the corner of my closet where I kept a small velvet-lined case. My jewelry collection. Trinkets from birthdays, old gifts from relatives, little mementos I had held onto.
I opened the box to check on it. The necklace.
A diamond pendant set in platinum, delicately wrapped in an antique design. It had belonged to my grandmother. Passed down to my mother. And then to me. I was supposed to wear it on my wedding day—whenever that day came.
But when I opened the case, it was gone.
The necklace was gone.
I froze.
I searched the drawers, the shelves, the small lockbox I’d tucked beneath my bed. I tore through my bag. Nothing.
Heart thudding, I marched straight into the living room. Nathan was there, lounging on the couch with his phone in hand.
“Nathan,” I said sharply, “where’s my diamond necklace?”
He barely glanced up. “Oh. That.”
“What do you mean, ‘that’?”
“I gave it to Sabrina,” he said casually. “She’s gonna wear it on our Finland trip. Looks good on her.”
My heart stopped. “You what?”
He finally looked at me, annoyed by the tone of my voice. “She liked it. And it suited her. I figured, why not? You weren’t wearing it.”
I stepped closer, fists clenched. “It’s not just some accessory. That necklace is a family heirloom. It belonged to my mother’s family. It was given to me. It’s mine.”
Nathan shrugged. “Sabrina’s family too. Why are you being like that? And she was just borrowing it.”
“No, she’s not,” I hissed. “She was never family. I made her part of our lives. I begged my parents to take her in. I gave her a home. And what did she do? She took everything.”