Chapter 17 - Threads of Memory
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I carried the red stocking over to the couch, smoothing my thumb over the golden embroidery. The wool still smelled faintly of my grandmother's cedar chest—a mixture of dried lavender, faint vanilla, and old paper. It was a stark contrast to the venomous atmosphere Lauren had created over the past year.
"Are you going to throw it out?" James asked softly, standing by the edge of the rug with his arms crossed.
"No," I whispered, looking up at him. "I'm keeping it."
James frowned slightly, a flicker of protective instinct surfacing in his eyes. "Sarah, she sent that to mess with your head. It's a power play. She wants you thinking about her every time you look at the Christmas tree."
"I know what she wants," I said, my voice firmer than I expected. "Lauren wants us to view everything through the lens of her destruction. She took this from Mom's house out of spite because she knew it was irreplaceable. But she didn't make this stocking. Nanna made it."
"She used it as a tool, Sarah," James argued gently, sitting down beside me. "A note saying she wanted Emma to have 'one thing that wasn't ugly'? That's classic manipulative victimhood. She wants us to pity her."
"I don't pity her," I replied, tracing the letters of my daughter's name. "I don't forgive her, either. If Lauren thought this gesture would erase the thousands of dollars she stole from Emma's future, or the way she tried to turn Mom and Dad against us, she's delusional. But I won't let her ruin Nanna's gift."
I walked down the hallway to Emma's nursery. The room was bathed in the warm, yellow light of the afternoon sun. Emma was fast asleep in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically, one small fist pressed against her cheek.
I opened the top drawer of her changing table—the drawer where I kept her special keepsakes, her hospital ID bracelet, and her silver baby rattle. I placed the red knit stocking gently inside, laying it flat over a soft baby blanket.
I slid the drawer shut with a quiet click.
May you like
I didn't put it away because I felt sympathy for my sister. I put it away because it belonged to my daughter. And Lauren no longer had any claim over either of them.
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