“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it,” she said with mock surprise, withdrawing her foot. Looking at the crushed toy, she smiled even more smugly. “This ragged thing should’ve been thrown out ages ago—keeping it is just bad luck. Right, Daniel?”
A rush of blood surged to my head, my vision turning red. I slapped her across the face. “Sophie Lane! What do you think you’re doing?!”
One of the bunny’s ears was now shredded, and a button eye—hand-sewn by Emma herself—rolled onto the floor. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my fingertips brushing over a dark stain on the fabric. The tears came hot and fast.
“Why did you push me?” Sophie suddenly cried out, clutching her stomach and stumbling back, her eyes reddening as she collapsed into Daniel’s arms. “Daniel, I didn’t mean anything by it… why is she so aggressive? What if she hurt the baby?”
Daniel’s face darkened as he turned on me. “Claire Whitmore! Have you lost your mind? Sophie’s in a delicate state—how could you push her? It’s just an old toy. I’ll buy you ten new ones!”
“An old toy?” My voice shook. “That was Emma’s! It’s the only thing my daughter left behind!”