Chapter 1
My grandson was crying over a flower when I realized my daughter had been hiding bruises from me.
It was tissue paper.
Blue and white.
Crushed beneath Vanessa Cole’s heel.
Noah stood beside it with both hands empty.
Three years old.
Trying not to cry because someone had apparently taught him crying made things worse.
Vanessa laughed.
“Your father doesn’t want garbage made by a child.”
Behind her, Grant had Isabella by the wrist.
The bruised wrist.
He jerked her backward when she reached for Noah.
I stopped in the showroom corridor.
Noah saw me.
“Grandpa…”
His voice broke.
“I made it for Daddy.”
Then he ran behind Isabella.
Not Grant.
His father stood six feet away.
My grandson chose the bruised woman instead.
That told me more than anyone’s explanation could.
I pulled Isabella and Noah behind me.
Grant shoved my chest.
“She’s my wife. Stay out of my house.”
Then he punched me.
I took one step backward.
He swung again.
I slipped beneath it and hit him once.
Grant crashed through the catalog rack.
Sample books and tissue boxes scattered across the carpet.
Vanessa grabbed Isabella again.
I knocked her hand away.
She struck my shoulder with a metal display plaque.
I took it.
One slap sent her backward through the ribboned gift display.
Then I removed my jacket and placed it around Isabella.
She was trembling.
Noah hugged her leg.
I looked at Grant.
“My grandson made you a flower.”
His expression tightened.
“You gave him a reason to hide from his own father.”
I looked at Vanessa too.
“You’re both finished.”
Grant’s face collapsed.
But Isabella grabbed my sleeve.
“Dad…”
I turned.
She whispered:
“Don’t send them away yet.”
“Why?”
Her eyes moved toward the ruined flower.
Noah crouched beside the pieces.
He picked up one crushed paper petal.
Something small dropped from inside it.
Brass.
A tiny key.
Grant went completely still.
May you like
And Isabella whispered:
“That’s what they’ve been looking for.”
