Sure enough, the doorbell rang in the middle of the night.
Vivian stood there, mascara streaked down her cheeks, tears ruining what was left of her makeup.
"The bracelet won't come off... it's swollen."
Mom opened the door and let her in.
"I told you," she said, her voice flat and even. "It knows its owner."
At the hospital, the doctor shook his head.
"The only option is to break it off."
The jade bangle cracked into pieces.
Vivian gasped, sucking air through her teeth against the pain.
Mom picked up the largest shard.
She held it up to the light.
"Better this way," she said. "Clean."
Dad didn't come home for days.
Mom cooked and cleaned as usual. She even signed up for a baking class.
"I'm going to learn how to make your favorite strawberry cake," she told me.
She burned several pans' worth.
But she didn't give up.
Not until she pulled out a soft, perfect chiffon.
She piped the frosting carefully, arranged the strawberries just so.
"Does it look right?" she asked me.
I nodded.
She smiled. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes deepened.
"Your grandma was the best at making these."
The cake sat on the table, waiting for Dad to come home.
He never showed.
On the third night, the phone rang.
The hospital.