"No!"
Beth's scream tore through the auction hall, raw and guttural, and the entire room went silent.
She dropped to her knees, trying to piece the fragments back together. The jagged edges sliced into her fingers, blood streaming down and dripping onto the red gemstones until she couldn't tell which was blood and which was tears.
She couldn't feel the pain. She cradled the shattered pieces in her trembling hands.
Her mother's gentle face flickered before her eyes, over and over. Her mother wearing those earrings while watering flowers on the balcony. Her mother holding her on her lap, telling her stories.
Jeanette stood off to the side, clutching her wrist, her voice thin and teary: "Mr. Henson, look, my wrist is all red. It really hurts."
Melvin turned immediately, taking Jeanette's wrist in both hands, examining it with exaggerated care, his brow furrowed deep: "How is it this bad? Is it swelling? Someone call an ambulance!"
Beth rose slowly to her feet. She walked up to Jeanette, her voice hoarse but clear: "Jeanette Pruitt, get on your knees. Right now. Apologize to my mother."
Jeanette's face went white. She shrank back a step. "I... I didn't mean to break them."
"Didn't mean to?" Beth let out a cold laugh, her eyes rimmed red. "Do you have any idea what those earrings meant to me? You did it on purpose."
She seized Jeanette by the arm and forced her toward the ground. "I said apologize. Apologize to my mother!"
Jeanette was shaking all over, her knees inches from the floor, when a pair of hands caught her.
Melvin stepped forward and crouched down, shielding Jeanette behind him, pulling her into his arms. He looked up at Beth, his eyes ice-cold:
"Enough! Beth, can you be reasonable for once? I bought those earrings for Jeanette. They were hers. She broke her own property. What right do you have to demand an apology?"
"And you grabbed her first. You hurt her, and that's why she dropped them. When it comes down to it, you brought this on yourself. If you'd just let her wear them, none of this would have happened. You're the one who should be apologizing!"
Beth stood frozen. She was the one who should apologize?
Her mother's only keepsake, stolen from her, smashed to pieces, and wanting it back was her fault?
Jeanette's wrist didn't even have a mark on it, and he was ready to call an ambulance.
Her fingers were slick with blood, and he hadn't spared her a single glance.
"Melvin Henson." She spoke each word separately, each one a blade. "Say that again."
Melvin's frown deepened. "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. Jeanette did nothing wrong. You're the one who went too far. Look at yourself right now. You're acting like a lunatic. Where's the Cox family heiress in any of this?"
Beth stared at him, her chest heaving. Then, all at once, a cold smile settled on her face. "Fine. You say it's my fault."
She turned, picked up a glass of red wine from the table, and hurled it straight into Jeanette's face. Jeanette shrieked. The wine ran down her hair in dark rivulets, and in an instant she looked utterly wrecked.
Beth smashed the glass on the floor, shards scattering in every direction. "Then I don't mind making one more mistake."
Melvin's face went ashen. He grabbed Beth's wrist. "Have you lost your mind?"
Beth lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were full of tears, but not a single one fell. She wrenched her wrist free, turned, and walked out of the auction hall.
When she got home, Beth packed her things and moved into the guest room. After what had happened, she could no longer share a bed with Melvin Henson.
Melvin came knocking when he got back. She refused to open the door.
She stood on her side of it and said, "I have nothing to say to you. Leave."
Melvin was caught off guard. Lately her words had grown fewer and fewer. Before, she could talk his ear off for hours about nothing at all.
But after everything that had happened recently, she wouldn't give him a single extra sentence.
What was she doing? Learning to use silence as a weapon against him? Trying a new tactic to get his attention?
He was quiet for a moment, then kept his voice measured: "Fine. Keep this up if you want. But the Cox Group anniversary gala is tomorrow night. Make sure you're there on time."
The next evening, Beth arrived at the banquet hall with Melvin. Despite every fiber of her being resisting, she held a champagne flute and made the rounds with him, exchanging pleasantries with each guest as if nothing were wrong.
Jeanette was there too. Melvin had recommended her as the emcee, and she was up on stage now, adjusting the equipment.
Without warning, a ripple of commotion swept through the hall. Someone gasped. Whispers broke out. Every head turned the same direction.
Beth followed their gazes to the stage, where the massive LED screen had come to life with a video.
Her pupils contracted. The air locked in her throat. Her whole body began to shake so violently she nearly collapsed.
On the screen, she was strapped to a chair in a psychiatric ward, undergoing electroconvulsive therapy.
Electrodes on her forehead. Her mouth wrenched open. Her body seizing. Her eyes vacant and hollow, like something that had already stopped living.
She had suffered from bipolar disorder. The compulsive talking that people mocked had been mania all along: relentless highs she couldn't stop, relentless crashes she couldn't escape. Back then, Melvin hadn't recoiled. He had stayed. He had gone to every appointment with her.
But it was a memory soaked in agony, and even now, thinking of it made her skin crawl.
And at this moment, every guest in the room, every person of influence in Harbor City, was watching that footage. Some were stifling laughter. Some were whispering behind their hands. Some had their phones out, recording.
"The Cox heiress is mentally ill?"
"No wonder she never shuts up. Turns out it's a manic episode."
"Tsk. Poor Attorney Henson. Married a crazy woman."
The words hit Beth like a physical blow. The room tilted and spun.
Up on stage, Jeanette still held the remote in her hand. She pressed her other palm to her mouth, wide-eyed, the picture of innocence, as though she had no idea how this had happened. But at the corner of her lips, a smile she couldn't quite suppress flickered through.
Beth understood everything. A cold clarity settled over her. She charged up the stairs and ripped the power cable from the screen.
Then she turned, seized Jeanette's jaw in one hand, and forced her face up. "Jeanette Pruitt. Who gave you the nerve to do this?"
Jeanette's eyes streamed with tears under the grip, her body twisting, fighting to break free.
Melvin rushed the stage and shoved Beth back. "What are you doing? Let go of her!"
Beth stumbled backward. At that same instant, the lighting rig behind her caught on the power cable. Metal shrieked against metal, and the entire frame came crashing down toward them.
