Chapter 3

Back home, I pulled open the wardrobe and took out my suitcase.

Then I went to the safe, keyed in the code, and drew out a yellowed document.

《Design-Credit Waiver Agreement》.

Five years ago, when Clyde Henson's company ran out of cash, he stood on the rooftop and nearly jumped.

I went to the biggest investor in the industry and traded five years of my talent and my design credit for the ten-million lifeline that saved him.

I never told him.

He always believed heaven had smiled on him, that some mysterious backer had bet on his talent.

My eyes moved to the signing date on the page.

Another two weeks, and the agreement would expire.

I folded the document, tucked it into the bottom compartment, and zipped the suitcase shut.

The click was strangely loud in the quiet bedroom.

Early the next morning, I pushed open the studio door.

Summer Cox was sitting at my workstation, a carving tool in her hand, cutting into a piece of raw stone.

Chips scattered across the bench.

My gaze fell on the gray-blue stone, and my blood froze on the spot.

It was the only thing my mother had left me.

An exceedingly rare rough gray-blue gemstone.

I crossed the room and pinned Summer's wrist.

She jumped, her brows knitting.

"Fern, what's wrong?"

"Where did this stone come from?"

"Clyde gave it to me."

"Clyde gave it to you?"

I stared at the rough stone in her hand.

Before my mother died, she'd pressed it into my palm and told me that on my wedding day, I should make it into a necklace with my own hands.

Now a corner had been cut away.

The flowing veins that once ran through it had been carved into fragments.

I pushed Summer aside, turned, and went straight to Clyde's company.

When I pushed open his office door, he was in a meeting.

I set the rough stone down on the table.

"That gray-blue rough stone. Did you give it to Summer?"

The smile on Clyde's face froze for an instant.

Then he cleared everyone out of the conference room.

He came toward me quickly, looking at the stone on the table.

"Fern, don't be upset yet. What exactly happened?"

"I'm only asking you one thing. Did you give it to her or not?"

Clyde avoided my eyes and picked up the stone, glancing at it.

"Someone downstairs must have grabbed the wrong one. I told them to find materials for Summer's competition piece. I never thought they'd touch your things."

"The wrong one?"

I looked at him and reached for the stone.

Clyde closed his hand around it first.

"It's already been cut. Switching materials now would set the schedule back."

He softened his voice and lifted a hand toward my shoulder.

I turned aside to avoid it.

"Give it back to me."

His hand stalled in midair.

"Fern, this competition is our company's best shot at breaking into the international market."

"Summer's already halfway through the piece. Think of the bigger picture and let her finish it."

I stared at the crack that had been forced open.

The veins my mother left behind had been altered beyond recognition.

Summer had even carved an elaborate pattern over it, gaudy as some cheap knockoff in a shop window.

"This is my mother's keepsake."

"I know."

Clyde's throat moved.

"When the competition's over, I'll give it back to you. You can do whatever you want with it then. All right?"

Once something is ruined, what good is getting it back.

I was about to speak when my stomach twisted hard.

I braced myself against the edge of the table, cold sweat sliding down my temple.

Clyde reached out to steady me.

"Is it your stomach again? Let me take you to the hospital."

"No need."

I pushed his hand away, turned, and went to the restroom.

Cold water hit my face, but the pain gnawing at my belly wouldn't stop. I leaned on the sink and waited for the black haze in front of me to clear.

Footsteps came from outside.

"Mr. Henson really doesn't hold back. That rough stone was left to Director Summers by her mother."

"Wrong one, my foot. Mr. Henson took it out of the safe himself. Miss Cox said she liked it, so of course he handed it over."

The other lowered their voice.

"Who in this company doesn't know what's going on between them. Only Director Summers is still in the dark."

"Shh, keep it down. Isn't Mr. Henson about to marry her?"

"Marriage is one thing. But what he's up to on the side…"

The laughter carried in through the door.

I stood inside the stall, clamping a hand over my mouth so I wouldn't make a sound.

Five years of design credit, ten million in funding, the drafts I stayed up all night for, and the medicine I swallowed in his place.

I gave everything I had to give.

And he took it all to coax another woman.

The footsteps outside slowly faded.

I pushed open the door and walked to the mirror.

Looking at how pale my own face was in the glass, I gave a bitter smile.

Then I lowered my head, slipped off the engagement ring, and put it in my bag.

All of it ended here.