Earn It in the Light

Beneath it was a polished mahogany shadowbox, framed in thick glass.

Greg stepped forward, sneering. “What’s this? Her typing awards?”

Colonel Vance didn’t answer. He lifted his cane, reversed his grip, and brought the heavy brass handle down onto the center of the glass.

The sound was like a gunshot. Shards exploded across the patio.

I stepped forward, my heart seizing. “Vance, no—”

But it was done. The glass was gone. Sunlight caught the metal resting on the black velvet inside — the dull bronze of a star, and the bruised violet of a heart.