04
"Daddy!"
Chloe's face crumpled. She ran toward him, desperate for a hug.
"Darling!"
Vanessa stamped her foot, her voice a saccharine whine.
But Nicholas walked right past our daughter. He went straight to Vanessa, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur.
"What happened, babe?"
She pointed a sharp, manicured finger at my face.
"This crazy woman! She hit me! She and her lying brat attacked me and our son! She ruined my bag and refuses to pay for it!"
Nicholas turned to me, his gaze icy.
"Why did you hit her?"
Of all the things—the theft, the humiliation—that was all he chose to see.
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Ask her why she stole my bag."
Emboldened, Vanessa swung her hand to strike me. Nicholas caught her wrist.
"I gave her the bag. You have too many. One less makes no difference. It's over. Don't embarrass yourself further."
I looked up, meeting his eyes with a sharp, cold smile.
"It's not over. I called the police."
The wail of sirens cut through the air. Nicholas's face went pale.
"Who called 911?"
"I did," I said, raising my hand. "To report theft and property damage."
They took statements. When they heard the value of the bag and the bracelet, a specialized team was summoned.
"Miss Bennett, you confirm this is your bag?"
I answered confidently.
"Absolutely. It has a unique authenticity stamp. The brand has all my purchase records. Ownership is singular. Please verify it."
The team sealed the bag as evidence.
The officer called the brand right there, and after confirming, he turned to me.
"Miss Bennett, this bag isn't yours."