A loud crash rang out, followed by the sound of glass breaking. Delphinia flinched, her heart leaping into her throat as she turned toward the source. The vase lay in ruins on the polished floor, bits of glass shining under the chandelier's light. Her father stood over it, his face twisted in anger, his fists clenched at his sides.
"What is wrong with you?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the big room. "Do you realize how much that vase cost? Or are you too stupid to care?"
Delphinia opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Her throat felt dry, as though every explanation, every plea for understanding had been stripped from her. She stood frozen, her foot stinging where a shard of glass had pierced her skin. Blood trickled onto the floor, but no one seemed to notice—or care.
