Bella's Arc

Chapter 10 of 13

Marella came around the corner fast. Bella sat tall beside her prize, chest puffed, tail curled neat. The two diamond studs blazed on the pale carpet, throwing bright sparks of light with every small shift of air. This was it. This was the moment Marella would finally see. Marella stopped. Her eyes dropped to the earrings. Then they slid, slowly, to Bella's paws. Her mouth pulled into a tight, tired frown. Her brows pinched together. She knelt down on the carpet, and her face was not amazed. It was disappointed. "Bella," she said softly. "Did you knock these off the dresser?" Bella's ears flattened. She turned her head sharp toward the baseboard and rubbed her shoulder against the little arched opening in the wood. Look. Look here. From the dark slot, two small faces peeked out — a boy and a girl, dark hair messy, cheeks round, grinning like they had won a prize. The girl pressed a hand over her mouth. The boy lifted one tiny finger and waggled it at Bella, slow and pleased. Marella did not turn her head. She was still looking at Bella. Marella scooped up the earrings, dropped them into her palm, and sighed. "No more playing with Mama's jewelry." She lifted Bella against her chest and stood. Behind them, the small arched gap was empty again. The evidence was gone. The blame had landed. And Bella, pressed warm against the wrong person's heartbeat, understood she had won everything except the only thing that mattered.