Chapter 4 - The Broken Glass
The quiet that follows is absolute.
The string quartet at the back of the hall stops mid-bow.
The grandfather turns his back on the groaning man on the floor.
He bends down, his knee joints making a faint, quiet pop.
He drops onto one knee right beside the nude-colored dress.
His large, calloused hand reaches out, gently lifting the toddler’s tiny chin.
The child looks at him through wet, heavy lashes, her thumb tucked tight into her mouth.
"Did he touch you, Little Bird?" the old man asks softly.
His voice is entirely different now—low, warm, like old leather.
The toddler shakes her head, pointing a tiny finger at the man bleeding on the ruined velvet board.
"He took the red star out of my hand, Grandpa," she says, her voice trembling.
"He said it belonged to his watch."
The grandfather’s eyes narrow slightly.
He reaches down to the marble floor near the collapsed display.
Among the shards of broken wood lies a heavy gold pocket watch.
Its back casing is popped wide open.
A small red ruby, no larger than a pea, sits loose in the dust beside it.
May you like
The grandfather picks up the ruby between his thumb and index finger.
He turns it toward the bright chandelier light.
