It was Sienna’s—the one she had made at school with her tiny hands, the one she painted herself, the one she won first prize for. My daughter’s proud little creation. Gone in pieces.
Something inside me snapped.
I shoved Bianca away, my voice breaking. “What is wrong with you? I told you not to touch anything!”
She stumbled back and immediately screamed, loud and theatrical. “Aldrin!”
Heavy footsteps rushed toward us. Aldrin appeared in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the scene. “What’s going on?”
“I was only trying to help,” Bianca said quickly, tears welling up on command. “The vase fell by accident. She got angry and pushed me.”
“That’s a lie!” I cried. “She knocked it over—I told her to leave my things alone!”
Aldrin’s stare hardened. “Over a stupid vase? Are you serious?”
“That wasn’t just a vase,” I shouted. “Sienna made that with her own hands—”
“Then why are you packing?” he cut in, suspicion sharpening his voice. “Planning to disappear, Amara? Is this because you found out I agreed to pay half the ransom?”
My heart stuttered. “You… you agreed?”
“Yes,” he said coldly. “And now you’re acting innocent? Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to run.”
“No—I swear I didn’t know—”