A Snob Accused A Crying Girl Of Theft, But The Manager Recognized Her Ring

The Ghost of the Past

Edward’s hands began to tremble as he stared at the ring resting on the velvet cushion. It was not one of the store's commercial diamond pieces. It was a vintage yellow-gold band holding a deep, star sapphire flanked by two tiny, hand-carved ivy leaves. He knew every microscopic flaw of that ring, because he had designed it himself thirty years ago for his late wife, Eleanor.

"Where did you get this?" Edward demanded, his voice shaking as he looked up at Emma.

Victoria stepped forward, her silver dress rustling. "Does it matter, Edward? She clearly sneaked into your private office and took it from your safe! I saw her lurking near the back hallway earlier. She’s a common criminal!"

But Emma shook her head vigorously, fresh tears spilling over her eyelashes. She looked directly into Edward’s eyes, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I didn't steal it, Dad," she whispered.

The word hung in the air, heavy and shocking. Edward felt as if the room was spinning. He stared closely at the young woman in the red coat. Under the harsh, bright lights of the showroom, he looked past the exhaustion, the faded clothes, and the tears. He saw the familiar curve of her jaw, the striking green eyes that matched Eleanor's, and the tiny crescent-shaped scar near her temple from a childhood swing accident. This was Emma, his estranged daughter whom he hadn't seen in over a decade, ever since his bitter divorce split their family apart.

Victoria’s face contorted in anger and confusion. "Dad? Edward, what is she talking about? You told me your daughter ran away years ago and wanted nothing to do with you! This girl is lying to save herself!"

"She isn't lying, Victoria," Edward said softly, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s face. "This is my Emma."