The soft wool scarf my grandma made was completely soaked, twisted, ruined. The texture looked wrong, clumped and stretched like it was destroyed.
More messages popped up.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I forgot wool can’t be soaked so I just left it in water when I got home.”
“I feel really bad… how much was it? I’ll pay you back. The material’s nice though, maybe I can reuse it and turn it into something else.”
“If you’re not replying I’ll just assume it’s fine, okay? I’ll send you 2 dollars. Since you said your grandma made it, it shouldn’t be that expensive right?”
The last photo loaded.
My hands started shaking.
The scarf was cut.
Not just ruined but cut into pieces. Strips. Like someone took their time destroying it.
My chest tightened and something snapped inside me.
I threw the covers off and got up, not caring that my body still felt weak. I grabbed my coat and walked out.
When I got to her place, I didn’t even hesitate. I rang the doorbell hard, my fingers cold but steady.
The door opened.
Amber stood there, wearing something simple, her face soft and surprised. “Ms. Hereford? You came all the way here? Is something wrong?”
“Where’s my scarf?” I asked, my voice flat.
She blinked, then turned casually and picked something up from the couch. The pieces. “You mean this? I already paid you for it, didn’t I?”
She glanced at her phone. “Oh, you didn’t accept the transfer? Was it too little? I can add more. I mean it was handmade by an elderly person, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? I’ll send you another 2 dollars, okay? It's not really worth it by way.”
Something burned in my chest.
Before I even thought— My hand moved.
“Smack!”
The sound was loud in the quiet room.
She stumbled back, holding her face, eyes wide. “You… you hit me?”
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” I said, my voice shaking but sharp. “You soaked it, you cut it, you sent those messages like you didn’t know. You think I’m stupid?”
Her eyes filled with tears instantly. “What are you talking about? I really didn’t mean to, I was just careless…”
“Careless?” I laughed, but it sounded wrong. “You came back on purpose. You called him at the exact time your mom needed surgery and forced him to make me donate. You stood outside that room and said all those things. You walked in at that exact moment. And now this?”
I stepped closer. “How many things did you plan? How many times did you think I wouldn’t fight back?”