Chapter 8

Wesley stepped out of the shower and found himself drawn to the window. Under the dim garden lights, a small figure knelt on the ground, painstakingly collecting fragments of the broken bracelet. Something sharp twisted in his chest, making his breath catch. Was Mabel truly this devoted to the bracelet because it had been her mother's keepsake? He threw down his towel, about to head downstairs when Anais and Alora intercepted him. "Wes, you're not actually going to that woman, are you?" Alora said. "She's just putting on an act for attention. Don't fall for it!" Anais lowered her eyes nervously. "Wes, Ms. Myers clearly said it was something she didn't want anymore. I only borrowed it to put it on for a while. This is all my fault for upsetting her." Wesley suddenly understood. Anais was right; Mabel had said she wanted to donate it. Only when Anais wanted it did she change her story, so she was clearly targeting Anais. No wonder she was putting on this pitiful show in the garden. If he went down now, he'd only be encouraging her bad behavior. With this thought, Wesley abandoned his intention to go looking for Mabel. By the time dawn broke, Mabel had finally gathered every last fragment from the garden. Rain-soaked and weary, her head spun, and her body felt like it was made of lead. But she couldn't rest yet. With her departure imminent, she had to repair the bracelet, or she'd never find peace otherwise. Mabel searched across the city until she found a master craftsman at the largest jewelry auction house capable of restoring it. Overcome with emotion, she stammered her thanks repeatedly. The craftsman worked for three full days before presenting the restored bracelet. "Once broken, always broken," he said. "No matter how well repaired, the cracks remain. I've done my best." Mabel examined the bracelet's visible cracks with deep regret yet still bowed gratefully to the craftsman. "I understand, sir. Just having it restored to this condition is more than I could hope for. Thank you!" She then left the workshop, carefully cradling the box—only to encounter the last person she wanted to see at the staircase. "Ms. Myers, what a coincidence! Shopping for jewelry?" Anais smiled brightly. Mabel ignored her, turning to descend the stairs. But as they passed each other, a sudden shove sent her reeling. Two piercing screams echoed through the jewelry store. By the time Wesley arrived, both women lay sprawled on the ground. Mabel's face was bruised purple, her knees bleeding profusely. Meanwhile, Anais, though seemingly unharmed, sobbed hysterically. "Ms. Myers, I know you hate me! I felt terrible about breaking your bracelet and came specifically to buy you an apology gift! But how could you push me down the stairs? Were you trying to kill me?" A deafening roar filled Mabel's ears. Before she could speak, Wesley's venomous glare locked onto her. "Mabel Myers, how can you be this vicious? If anything happens to Annie, I'll make sure you pay!" His warning struck like thunder. He stepped over Mabel's injured body in disgust, scooped Anais into his arms, and rushed to the hospital. Surveying her wounds, Mabel barely registered the physical pain. She laughed through tears, mocking herself bitterly. Well, perhaps when one's heart ached enough, the body's suffering became numb. This battered, broken body of hers—was there anything left worth cherishing?