Chapter 4 — The Shard on the Vest
Brenda stopped dead in her tracks.
She kept her eyes locked on the tiny, glistening piece of glass stuck in the dark fabric of her father’s vest cuff.
It caught the hallway light and threw a sharp, silver reflection across the floor.
“Dad,” Brenda said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low register.
“Look at your sleeve.”
Arthur glanced down at his wrist.
His breath hitched in his throat.
He instantly curled his fingers inward, trying desperately to ball his hand into a fist and hide the sharp speck.
“It’s nothing,” Arthur muttered, pulling his arm back against his side.
“Just dust from the attic.”
“That isn’t dust,” Brenda said, taking another deliberate step toward him.
“That is heavy picture frame glass. The exact same kind that is shattered all over the living room carpet right now.”
Arthur swallowed hard.
His throat bobbed visibly as panic set in.
“I helped clean up a piece earlier,” Arthur lied quickly, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.
“That must be where it came from.”
“You weren’t in the living room when I walked in,” Brenda pointed out, her green eyes narrowing as she mentally retraced the timeline.
“Ethan was alone in the room crying. You came out of the study ten minutes later.”
“I was in the study,” Arthur stammered, his defense crumbling under the weight of her direct logic.
“Checking papers.”
“Then how did glass from the front room get embedded in your vest cuff before you even crossed the threshold?” Brenda asked.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak.
No sound came out.
He just stood there trembling against the doorframe, trapped in his own conflicting timeline.
Before Arthur could cobble together another excuse, a loud scraping noise echoed from the front of the house.
Ethan’s small voice drifted down the corridor from the living room.
“Mom,” Ethan called out, sounding breathless and urgent.
“You need to come look at this right now.”
Brenda did not break eye contact with her father.
“What is it, sweetie?” she called back over her shoulder.
“I was looking for my toy truck under the sofa,” Ethan shouted, his voice shaking.
“And I found something pushed way back against the baseboard. It’s a leather notebook with a lock on it, and it has Grandfather’s initials carved right into the cover.”