Cora POV:
I sat on the bluff above the beach for an hour. The urn in my lap. The Atlantic wind drying the salt on my skin.
"Dad. Mom." My voice cracked. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you better." I pressed my lips to the cool wood. The wolf in me whined, low and wounded, curling around the grief. "I promised you I'd settle down. Be safe. I tried." I swallowed. "No more."
I stood. Brushed sand from my knees. Went home.
The private elevator opened into the penthouse foyer. No key. Eleanor had seen to that. I raised my hand to the bell and froze.
My sharpened hearing caught every word through the door.
"She's a vase, Mama. A decorative nothing." Felicia, bright with glee. "No pedigree, no career. She can't function without a man holding her leash."
"A pity marriage," Eleanor agreed, pouring tea. "But that's over. Caroline is the right match. Yale. Breeding. She'll look magnificent at the IPO gala."
A tinkling laugh. Caroline. Here. In my home. "Oh, you two flatter me. But I do feel for Cora. She tries so hard. It's just sad, watching someone reach above their station."
"Of course, darling," Eleanor cooed. "You're family. She never was."
The three of them laughed. Warm. Easy. A family.
I felt nothing. Just the cold confirmation of a death I'd pronounced hours ago. Let them talk. They were already ghosts.
I pressed the bell.
Felicia opened the door. Her smile died. "What are you"
I walked past her into the living room. And stopped.
There, draped over Caroline's collarbone, catching the light in a flash of deep blue. A sapphire. Teardrop cut. Silver chain. A tiny scratch near the clasp I'd known since I was seven years old.
My mother's necklace.
The one she'd worn every day until the deployment that killed her. The one I'd tracked for years across estate sales and auction houses. The one that surfaced at a charity gala weeks ago. The first and only time in three years I'd told Vance what I wanted. Not begged. Told. "That's mine. Buy it. Anniversary gift." He'd kissed my forehead. "Done."
I never received it.
And now it hung on the throat of the woman who'd knocked my parents into the sand four hours ago.
The wolf in me went silent. The terrible, focused silence before a kill.
"Where," I said, my voice dropping to a register that made Caroline's own dormant wolf-blood freeze, "did you get that necklace?"
Her hand fluttered to her throat. "Oh, this? Vance gave it to me. A little gift between friends. Nothing deep."
"Friends." I stepped closer. "That is my mother's sapphire. The only thing she left in this world. I told Vance to buy it. He put it on your neck instead."
Caroline's smile tightened. "I'm sure it's a coincidence. Teardrop sapphires are common. You're being paranoid and possessive. Maybe if you weren't so obsessed"
I didn't let her finish.
My hand shot out. Fast. Military fast. I caught the chain at the nape of Caroline's neck and yanked. The silver snapped with a clean ping. Caroline shrieked, stumbling back. The sapphire landed in my palm, warm from her skin.
"HEY!" Felicia lunged. "You can't just"
"I can. I just did." I closed my fist around the stone. "It's mine. It was always mine. Your brother had no right to give it away, and you had no right to wear it." I looked at Caroline, whose hand was still pressed to her bare throat. "Especially not you. Not after today."
"Cora, what the hell is going on?" Vance strode in from the hallway, tie still sandy, jaw working. He took in the scene. Me, rigid. Caroline, clutching her throat. Eleanor and Felicia flanking her.
"She stole my necklace!" Caroline cried, tears springing instantly. "I told her you gave it to me, and she just ripped it off"
"It's my mother's," I said. "The one I told you to buy. The one you said was 'done.' And you draped it on her." I didn't raise my voice. "The same woman who scattered my parents in the sand this afternoon."
Vance sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. "Cora. It's a chunk of old glass. I'll buy you a better one. Cartier. Whatever. Just stop making a scene over a trinket."
Old glass. Trinket.
I looked at him. Really looked. And the last thread, the one I'd been holding because my father asked me to settle, be safe, have a family, snapped.
"No," I said. "I don't want your Cartier. I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you." I tucked the sapphire into my pocket. Picked up the urn from where I'd set it by the door.
The room went still.
Eleanor found her voice. "You ungrateful little after everything this family has done for you"
I stopped. Turned back. Smiled.
"Everything this family has done for me." I let the words hang. Let them taste the irony. "You're right, Eleanor. You've done so much." I let my gaze sweep the room. The silk, the marble, the crystal. "I'll remember every bit of it."
I walked out. The urn against my chest. The sapphire in my pocket.
