Chapter 8 - The Pearl Brooch Returned
Three days after the aborted wedding, the sun finally broke through the Maine mist, warming the stone terrace where the white roses were already beginning to wither in their vases.
I sat alone at the edge of the stone wall, looking out over the endless blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.
The caterers had long since packed up. The venue fees had been refunded through a frantic, apologetic call from the wedding planner once she realized the federal marshals had arrested the groom.
Footsteps crunched softly behind me on the gravel.
I didn't turn around. I knew who it was.
Rebecca stopped a few feet away, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her oversized sweater. She looked pale, exhausted, and small.
“Dad said I could come by for twenty minutes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves.
I turned my head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of my eye. “Did you sign the affidavit for Sergeant Miller?”
“Yes,” she nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “I told them everything about the wire transfers, the fake lease agreements, the shell accounts. I’m cooperating fully with the federal prosecutors.”
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-lined jeweler’s box.
She walked forward slowly and placed it on the stone wall beside me.
I looked down at the box. I didn't touch it.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s Mom’s pearl brooch,” Rebecca choked out. “I went back to the terrace the morning after… I searched the dirt where you dropped it. I brushed away the leaves until I found it.”
She stepped back, wiping her cheek with her sleeve.
“I don’t deserve to hold it, Carrie. I don’t deserve to be part of this family right now. I know that. But I wanted you to have it back where it belongs.”
I reached out, my fingers brushing the velvet lid of the box. I flipped it open.
Inside, Mom’s antique silver-and-pearl pin gleamed in the sunlight, completely undamaged by the dirt or the rain.
“You’re going to be a mother, Rebecca,” I said, my voice softening just a fraction, though the pain in my chest remained sharp. “You need to figure out what kind of life you’re going to build for that child. Because Andrew isn’t going to be there to fund it.”
“I know,” she sobbed softly. “I’m moving back into Dad’s guest room. I’ve already applied for my old job at the bookstore. I’m going to do this on my own, Carrie. I have to.”
“It’s going to be a long, hard road,” I told her honestly. “I am not going to rescue you, Rebecca. You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.”
“I don’t expect you to rescue me,” she whispered, turning to walk back toward her car. “I just wanted you to know… I am so, so sorry.”
May you like
I watched her walk away, her silhouette shrinking against the bright ocean backdrop.
I closed the jeweler’s box, picked it up, and pinned the pearl brooch securely over my heart.
