Page 122 of What Goes Around

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Liam cleared his throat beside me, unimpressed.

“I suggest,” he said calmly, “you step away before you turn this into something much harder to walk back.”

The girl stared at us for a long, burning second, then spun on her heel and stormed off, humiliated and furious.

Silence.

Liam redirected smoothly. “Perhaps,” he said, turning toward Apple, “the most logical step would be to actually search Apple's bag properly. This has gone on long enough.”

A ripple of agreement moved through the nearby guests.

Apple frowned, irritation flickering across her face, but she nodded. She had nothing to hide. That much she believed.

She opened her bag and began to rummage through it in front of everyone. Lipstick. Phone. Tissues. A compact. Then she froze.

Slowly, she reached into a zippered inner pocket and pulled something out.

Broken emerald stones spilled into her palm.

“No,” Apple whispered. “That’s ..that’s not possible. I didn’t…” She shook her head, eyes darting wildly. “Someone must have broken it and put it back in my bag...”

Her words trailed off as the absurdity of them became obvious even to her.

Nick stared at her, disbelief written openly across his face.

Payton’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Dad rubbed his temples, frustration finally breaking through his carefully maintained composure. Marissa’s smile fractured at the edges.

“This has gone on long enough,” he said sharply. “It’s a bracelet. Accidents happen. But this—” He gestured around the hall, at the stares, the whispers, the tension thickening the air. “—was unnecessary.”

Marissa stepped in immediately, voice light, soothing, damage-control polished.

“Let’s all calm down,” she said. “This was just a misunderstanding.”

Apple lifted her head slowly.

She looked around the room, at the guests, at the faces that had shifted from sympathy to discomfort, at the friends who no longer looked so certain.

Then her gaze locked onto mine.

I raised an eyebrow.

And smiled.

You’re no match for me.

Marissa clapped her hands together softly, as if closing a chapter. “Why do we not all take our seats,” she said brightly. “We have a slideshow prepared. Photos from the girls’ childhood, their achievements. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Guests drifted back toward their tables, murmuring under their breath.

Payton paused beside me on her way back to her seat. She leaned in, voice low.

“What the hell was that?”

I shrugged lightly. “Beats me.”