Chapter 11 - The Velvet Pouch
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The grand foyer was swarming with police officers and paramedics. Victoria was shoved against the hood of a patrol car outside, her emerald dress ruined, handcuffs biting into her wrists as she screamed obscenities at the officers leading her away.
Inside, two paramedics carefully attended to Florence, wrapping her in a warm blanket and checking her vital signs.
Edward knelt by his mother’s side, holding her cold hand tightly. "I'm so sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry I brought that woman into our lives."
Florence offered a weak, heartbreaking smile, her frail fingers reaching up to touch her son's cheek. "It wasn't your fault, my sweet boy. Evil knows how to hide behind beauty."
She reached beneath her blanket and pulled out a small, dark velvet pouch that had been hidden in her skirt pocket. She pressed it gently into Edward’s hand.
"I am so sorry I didn't tell you about my illness," Florence whispered softly, her voice raspy. "I wanted to protect you from the pain for as long as I could. Victoria was right about one thing... I am donating the bulk of the estate to a shelter for abused women."
Edward shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't care about the money, Mother. I only care about you."
"I know," Florence said gently. "This pouch holds the deeds to my heart."
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Edward opened the drawstring of the pouch. Inside rested a simple, unadorned gold ring and a folded, yellowed note written in his late father’s distinctive handwriting.
"It isn't worth millions," Florence murmured, closing her eyes tiredly as the paramedics prepared to lift her stretcher. "But to your father and me... it meant everything."
