Inside lay a set of heirloom jewelry—the pieces that had once belonged to my grandmother. The same set Avery had worn on our wedding day.
My throat closed.
Why would she send these back?
The weight of it pressed down on my chest, heavy and unmistakable. My palms dampened.
Then there was the third box.
It sat there, silent.
Something in my gut twisted violently.
I didn’t wait.
My hand moved before reason could stop it, snatching the box from the courier. Sebia shot me a sharp look—but he didn’t interfere.
I tore away the wrapping.
And froze.
The contents drained the color from my face.
My breath caught, shallow and sharp, as my fingers trembled around the box. The meaning hit all at once—cold, deliberate, devastating.
This wasn’t a gift.
It was a message.
One I couldn’t unsee.
One the entire room would soon understand.
