<b>Chapter </b><b>4 </b>


    The next morning, Elissa’s internal clock woke her up before dawn. When she drew back the curtains, the world outside had vanished beneath a shroud of white. Not a word about snow inst night’s forecast–yet here it was, the first snowfall of the year, thick and silent.


    Even through the ss, she could feel the chill seeping in.-


    She changed into a warm knit dress and was still brushing her teeth when a loud crash echoed down the hall. Another followed, then a torrent of ttering and banging. The racket was so intense, for a moment she wondered if a demolition crew had arrived by mistake.


    “Elissa, what on earth is going on out there…” She twisted her hair into a messy bun, opened the bedroom door, and froze mid–sentence.


    Demolition crew? Try a tornado. Or an invading army.


    The house, normally spotless and orderly, had been turned upside down. A sofa cushion–one that belonged downstairs–was now outside her door, smeared with an ominous brown stain. The vase that once stood on the console tabley in shards on the floor. And the million–dor oil painting that hung in the hallway? shed, defaced, ruined beyond repair.


    It was almost impressive, in a horrifying way.


    Edna, their housekeeper, was nearly in tears as she trailed after Hickey. “Please, darling, don’t touch that! That’s thedy’s favorite tea set-


    Crash.


    Toote. The china shattered across the tiles.


    Hickey, the pint–sized tyrant, stuck out his tongue and huffed, “I’ll y with what I want! Uncle said this is my house now. You’re just the help, so who are you to boss me around?”


    He looked up–and met Elissa’s icy gaze. Instinctively, he ducked his head.


    That awful woman! She’d scared him so badlyst night that he’d dreamed of being chased by Santa us and monsters all night long. He had to get rid of her. Mom said, as long as that woman left, Uncle would be theirs alone.


    Elissa’s voice was calm. “Go ahead, Hickey. y all you want.”


    “Really?” He stared at her, suspicious.


    <b>1/3 </b>


    13:28


    After all the things he’d broken–her favorite things, no less–she wasn’t even angry?


    Elissa leaned against the upstairs railing, ncing down at Marcia, who sat in the living room below pretending not to hear a thing. She smiled. “Of course. But leave the watercolor hanging in the sitting room alone. That one’s my favorite.”


    Whether Marcia had put Hickey up to this or the brat thought it up himself, Elissa couldn’t be sure. But it didn’t matter.


    She wasn’t one to let things slide. Someone once taught her: if you’re bullied, hit back


    tenfold.


    Hickey’s eyes shed. “Okay!”


    He darted off, already plotting his next bit of mischief.


    Edna watched him go, helpless. “You and Mr. Ethan both spoil that child far <i>too </i>much…”


    “It’s fine,” Elissa assured her. “Let him be. He’s the Atwater family’s only grandson–his happinesses first. Besides, Marcia never stops him, does she? We have to respect her parenting style. If anything goes wrong, neither you nor I could bear the me.”


    Edna sighed. “You’re too soft, that’s your problem. Makes people think they can walk all over you.”


    Elissa only smiled. “Do we have any spare gift boxes in the house?”


    “What kind?”


    “Anything that’ll hold something the size of a sheet of paper.“.


    “There <i>are </i>some in the storage room. I’ll fetch one for you.”


    <i>Once </i>she had the box, Elissa locked herself in her room. She ced the signed divorce papers inside, then fussed over a ribbon, tying it into a perfect bow.


    <i>Suddenly</i>, a violent crash thundered up from downstairs. Elissa didn’t so much as flinch. She just tightened the bow and nodded, pleased with her handiwork.


    Beautiful. Absolutely perfect.


    Momentster, someone pounded on her door. Edna sounded frantic. “Elissa, you need toe downstairs! That boy’s ruined Mr. Atwater’sst painting!”


    Elissa shot to her feet, her face pale. “What did you say? The one in the sitting room?”


    Edna nodded miserably.


    Elissa hurried down the stairs, so fast she twisted her ankle on thest step.


    Hickey stood by the wreckage, chin up, daring her to do something about it.


    <b>13:28 </b>


    She turned to Edna. “Did you call the main house?”


    “Not yet.”


    “Then do it. Now.”


    The words were barely out when Hickeyunched himself at her, screaming, “No! Don’t you dare! You’re not allowed to tattle, you witch!”


    Caught off guard by the force of his little body, Elissa stumbled and fell hard, pain shooting up her spine.


    “Elissa, are you hurt?” Marcia rushed over, helping her up with a pinched smile. “He’s just a child. I’ve spoiled him, I know, but kids roughhouse. Don’t take it to heart.”


    Elissa, holding her lower back, stared at the ruined painting–a gaping hole smashed through it. She gave a coldugh. “So you think letting your son destroy other people’s property is just part of your parenting style?”


    Marcia’s eyes filled with tears. “I just took my eyes off him for one moment, and now you’re ming me for everything?”


    “Oh, one moment?” Elissa looked around at the chaos. “So when, exactly, were you watching him? He’s only been up an hour and half the house is wrecked.”


    “Elissa!” With nobody else around, Marcia dropped her sweet fa?ade. “Do you have to make a scene over a stupid painting? You’re really going to call the family about this? Do you think Grandma will punish me over some worthless picture-<b>” </b>


    “Correction,” Elissa cut in, her voice low. “That’s not just a picture. It was Mr. Atwater’sst painting before he died.”


    As she finished speaking, a ck sedan rolled into the driveway.


    The family from the main house had arrived.


    <b>3/3 </b>