Alice’s POV
“I didn’t mean to break your picture,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “It fell, and I—I don’t even know how or why. I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem. I don’t think.”
The tears streamed freely now, hot and blinding. My chest rose and fell too fast, my breath coming out in short, broken puffs. “I’ll fix it,” I said again, almost to myself. I made a move to bend down and gather the shattered pieces, but Brian caught my arm and gently pulled me back up.
“Alice,” he said sharply. His eyes were wide, searching.
“I know I’ll fix it—I’m sorry. That was the only picture you had of her and I broke it. I didn’t mean to, I swear—” I started bending down again, but his voice cracked like thunder.
“Alice, stop it.”
His tone was low but commanding, a kind of quiet fury that made
