Chapter 8 — Matching the Frame to the Door Handle
Jordan brought the corner of the wooden picture frame directly against the side table.
The damaged edge of the frame fit into the indentation on the oak surface.
It was a precise match.
A smudge of brass polish transferred onto the corner of the wooden frame.
The trace of metal came directly from the handle of the living room door.
Jordan held the frame up so the transfer was visible under the light.
The angle of the scratch matched the curved edge of the brass handle perfectly.
There was no room for misinterpretation.
The door had struck the frame with enough force to leave microscopic metallic residue behind.
Vincent stepped closer to inspect the evidence himself.
His gaze fixed on the tiny smear of brass on the dark wood.
His hand reached out instinctively to touch the scarred edge.
He pulled his fingers back before making contact.
The microscopic transfer of metal confirmed the door struck the frame directly.
Samantha remained seated on the carpet a few feet away.
She watched her grandfather stare at the small smudge of polish.
Jordan lowered the frame slightly.
He looked up at Vincent, waiting for the older man to speak.
Vincent tried to defend his rush to judgment before looking at the complete picture.
“I just… I heard the crash and she was right there,” Vincent muttered, his voice losing its prior certainty.
“You didn’t look at the table, Dad,” Jordan replied quietly.
Vincent opened his mouth to offer another justification about the fragility of the heirloom.
Instead, his eyes drifted back down to the floorboards near the baseboard heater.