No ring! Andrew, can you hear me? Poppy shrieked, turning the bedroom insideout. My emeraldset ring is nowhere to be found!
She stood in the centre of the room, chest rising hard, surrounded by drawers ripped open and boxes turned insideout. Her hands trembled with a panic that grew louder with each breath. That ring had been her trophy bought with the money from her first big bonus, a reminder of how shed clawed her way into the firm. Now it had vanished.
Andrew let out a weary sigh, finally putting his mobile down.
Popp, it cant have run off. You must have simply misplaced it. Youll remember when youve taken a nap.
Im absolutely certain, Poppy turned to him, eyes alight. Apart from the little jewellery box on the dresser I never put it anywhere else. Never. You know that. I always put things back where they belong.
Andrew waved a hand.
Itll turn up. Dont get worked up over nothing.
Nothing? Poppys voice sharpened. Its not nothing, Andrew, its precious Your sister must have taken it. Thats it! No one else could have!
Andrew frowned, set his phone aside and stared at her with a thinly veiled irritation.
Youre being dramatic again. Christina wouldnt do that.
Would she? Poppy crossed her arms. Who else has been in our flat these past three months? Whos been snooping around while we were at work? I want her to hand the ring back this instant. Lets drive to her.
Andrews fingers rubbed his face. Poppy saw his shoulders tighten, his lips compress into a thin line. He clearly didnt want the trip, didnt want a row. She, however, would not retreat.
Poppy, perhaps we shouldnt? Think about it why would she want your ring?
Because its beautiful and valuable. Lets go. Now.
With Andrews reluctant sighs trailing them, they piled into the car and left town for the village beyond the green hills. Poppy perched on the passenger seat, phone clenched in her fist, a storm churning inside her. Each mile felt like a weight dragging her forward. Andrew kept quiet, throwing occasional sideways glances that were halfaccusation, halfsympathy.
An hour later they arrived at Andrews parents cottage, where silence greeted them. Poppy was the first to step out, marching straight to the front porch.
Mrs. Whitaker opened the door, froze on the threshold, eyes wide with astonishment.
Andrew? Poppy? What on earth We werent expecting you.
Wheres Christina? Poppy blurted, skipping any pretense of greeting.
Shes at home, of course. She just arrived from your place yesterday, the motherinlaw said, stepping aside to let them in. Come in, whats happened?
Poppy swept into the sitting room where Mr. Whitford and Christina sat at the table. Christina lifted her head as they entered, eyes widening.
Christina, you must return my ring properly, Poppy halted in the centre of the room. Otherwise everything will go badly. I wont just let this slide.
A heavy hush settled. Mr. Whitford rose slowly from his chair.
Who gave you licence to behave like this in someone elses house? his voice low, threatening. Are you accusing our daughter of theft?
Im stating a fact, Poppy pressed on, her throat tight. My emerald ring disappeared after Christina left. No one else was in the flat.
Mrs. Whitaker screamed:
My daughter could not have stolen anything! Youre insulting our whole family!
Then explain where my ring is. Hurry up, my patience is wearing thin.
Andrew stood by the door, pale and silent, shifting his gaze between his wife and his sister, never stepping in.
Christinas lower lip quivered, tears gathering.
I I just wanted to try it on a little. Its so pretty. And you you think Im being cruel? I thought I could slip it back and you wouldnt notice
Poppy froze. She expected denial, outrage, perhaps a tantrum, but not such a frank confession, as if she herself were at fault.
Cruel? she exhaled, rage rising like a tide. Yes, Im cruel! I spent three months overtime, poured my bonus into that ring, and you just took it without asking! Thats insane!
Poppy, calm down, Mr. Whitford finally intervened. Youre making a mountain out of a molehill. Shes young, she just likes pretty things. You have everything a good job, a husband, a house. Let her keep the ring, shell think of you. You can buy another.
They were serious? They truly believed she should surrender something shed paid for just because her sisterinlaw fancied it?
Poppy, be a bit kinder, Mrs. Whitaker pressed her hand to Poppys shoulders. Christina didnt mean any harm. She admired the ring, dreamed of having one. You have it all a solid career, a husband, a flat. Shes just starting out. Dont be selfish. It isnt the most important thing in life.
Poppy turned to Andrew, searching his eyes for any hint of support, any word of defence. He merely shook his head, averting his gaze.
Youre overreacting, Poppy, he finally said. Its just a ring. Not the end of the world.
Just a ring. Her achievement, her joy, her property merely a ring. As she stood among the people shed counted as family for three years, the realization struck her like a cold splash.
Her hands steadied. An icy calm settled inside.
She fished her phone from her coat pocket, tapped three digits, and held it up to Mrs. Whitakers face.
Ill give you two minutes, her voice was flat, cold. Return the ring to me, or Ill call the police. Your choice.
You wont dare! Mr. Whitford stepped forward, his face flushing.
We shall see, Poppy didnt budge an inch.
Christina burst into sobs, clutching at her mother. Mrs. Whitaker shot daggers at Poppy, but remained mute.
Times ticking, Poppy reminded.
Andrew! the motherinlaw pleaded. Say something to your wife! Stop her!
Andrew stared at the floor, silent. Poppy smiled, bitter and scornful, and reached for the call button.
Fine, fine! Christina shrieked.
She darted to her bedroom, returned a minute later with a familiar velvet box, flinging it onto the table before Poppy.
Here! Take your precious ring! You selfish, miserly witch!
Poppy lifted the box, opened it the ring lay inside, the emerald glittering under the lamps glow. She slipped it back into the velvet cushion and tucked it into her coat pocket.
I thought you were decent, Christina sniffled, wiping tears. But youre greedy and nasty.
Poppy headed for the door, then turned back, her stare hard as steel.
If Im that awful, why did I spend three months in your flat? Using your WiFi, your hot water? If Im such a monster, why did I ask you to pay for my courses? Explain that.
Christina frowned, turned away, speechless.
Poppys gaze fell on her husband, hunched, head down. A pitiful sight. She said with disdain:
I didnt expect this from you, Andrew. Given your family it would be odd if you turned out any different.
She reached out.
The car keys.
Andrew lifted his head, scowling.
What?
The cars mine too. I bought it with my own money. Hand them over.
Poppy
Keys! she snapped.
He dug into his pocket and placed the keys in her palm without a word. She clenched them into a fist and, at the doorway, turned one last time.
Ill collect my things tomorrow and file for a divorce.
She walked out, not waiting for a reply.
A month later the divorce was official. Poppy looked at the dresser. The jewellery box sat where it always had, its velvet pillow cradling the emerald ring.
Her phone buzzed on the table another notification. Former relatives accused her of coldness, cruelty, tearing families apart. They called her selfish, unwilling to understand or forgive.
She didnt reply. She simply added the number to her block list, as she had done with dozens more.
Life without Andrew proved simple and light. His familys dramas no longer touched Poppy. She cared little whether Christina found work or not. She didnt fret about how his parents house would survive the winter.
Now Poppy plotted only for herself, planning holidays with those who truly loved her.
