She lifted her wrist. A jade bangle gleamed—vivid, deep green.
It was my grandmother's.
The beans spilled from Mom's hands.
She straightened slowly, her gaze locked on the bracelet.
"Take it off."
That was all Mom said.
The woman ducked behind Dad.
He draped an arm around her shoulders.
"Letting her wear it is a compliment to you," he told Mom. "Don't be ungrateful."
Mom said nothing.
She walked into the bathroom and filled a basin with cold water.
Then she walked straight up to the woman and poured it over her head.
The woman shrieked.
"My bracelet!" She clawed at it, trying to pull it off.
The jade bangle caught on the bone of her wrist. It wouldn't budge.
Mom laughed.
"Seems like it knows its owner."
Dad's hand cracked across her face.
Blood seeped from the corner of Mom's mouth. She was still smiling.
"Go ahead," she said. "Hit me louder. Let the neighbors hear exactly what kind of man you are."
Dad's hand froze in midair.
His eyes darted to the window. He lowered his voice.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Yes," Mom said, wiping the blood away. "I should've lost it a long time ago."
The woman fled in the chaos.
The bracelet was still stuck on her wrist.
Mom stared at the empty doorway.
"She'll be back."