I reached out with trembling hands to take it, but she jerked back suddenly and the sacred artifact slipped into the pot of chicken soup.
"Alison!"
The chicken soup had just come off the stove, still bubbling hot. Without thinking, I reached in to grab it.
But the sacred artifact had already disintegrated, completely unrecognizable.
Red blisters quickly rose on both my hands and Blake let out a sigh, his eyes full of confusion.
"It’s just a sacred artifact. Was it worth hurting yourself and wasting a whole pot of chicken soup?"
Unable to hold back, I squatted down and sobbed.
"I'm sorry..."
Blake hadn’t expected me to be so meek and humble; for once, he didn’t make things difficult for me.
"Delilah, if you really like it, I’ll take you to the church next time."
I didn’t answer, swallowing my heartbreak as I turned and walked into the guest room.
He didn’t understand that sorry wasn’t meant for him. It was for my parents.
Their daughter had let them down, unable to protect even the last thing they had left behind.
Blake, staring after my retreating figure, felt a faint stab of guilt and was about to speak when Alison clutched her stomach and leaned against his chest, her face twisted in pain.