ng, a sharp, intrusive sou

arge, square box from a local bakery. "Deliver

, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. I

a'am," he said, ha

thday. In the whirlwind of my mother's death and Sarah'

something that might have been guilt, quickly extinguished. He had forgotten. Of course, he had forgotten.

g silence, I added, "It's nothing, really. My aunt is just a bit sentimental." I placed t

erful! We must celebrate." She glided over to me, her smile wide and predatory. "I feel so terrible, I didn't get you a

vagant gesture that was also deeply, profoundly insulting. It was a que

me. I looked from the bracelet to her perfectly made-up face. "No, tha

ted, trying to press it int

ed, taking a step bac

ile faltered, a flash of anger in her eyes before

ing between us. "Sarah is trying to be generous, and you're actin

n the face. He saw my refusal not as an act of sel

he commanded, his e

ne out of me as quickly as it had appeared. What was the point? I was just a

the cold, heavy bracelet from Sarah's

voice still tight with

er that night, long after Ethan had shown Sarah to her room and the house had fallen silent, I went into the kitchen. I open

he trash can in the laundry room and dropped it inside, burying it beneath a pile of used dryer sheets.