Chapter 2 - The One That Didn't Break"You can't sell my mother's workshop," I said.

"Your father can do whatever he likes with family property." Vanessa swept a pile of broken candy into the trash. "Now get these ornaments out of my way before somebody cuts a foot."

Grandma grabbed my elbow before I answered. "Photograph everything, Hannah. Don't throw a single piece away."

My father was on his way home from a plumbing job two towns over. Vanessa called him first, naturally. She cried into the phone about how Pearl had attacked the masterpiece she'd made for charity. By the time he returned, the story would have grown teeth.

I photographed the fallen tree, the cracked stand, and the scrape marks in the hardwood where Vanessa's heel had dragged the base. My mother had blown glass in a converted carriage house at the end of our driveway. She called it Willow House, although there hadn't been a willow in that yard since the storm of 2008.

"She left it to me," I told Grandma. "You showed me the papers when I turned eighteen."

"I showed you copies. The originals were in Robert's desk until last spring." Her voice dropped. "Vanessa offered to reorganize everything when your father got sick."

Dad had been hospitalized with pneumonia, then spent months recovering. Vanessa handled his mail, the bills, and, apparently, more.

I found a green glass star beneath the piano. It had survived with one point chipped. Mom had made it the year I turned ten. A narrow ribbon tied around its hanging loop held a tiny paper tag. Most years I'd ignored it. Now I read the faded ink: FOR THE GIRL WHO WILL KEEP THE LIGHT ON.

I closed my hand around it.

At the door, Vanessa's friend from church, Denise, arrived to collect the gingerbread display. When she saw the destroyed house, she gasped. Vanessa burst into fresh tears and pointed at Grandma.

"She did this because she's jealous of my work."

Denise glanced at my mother's broken ornaments, then at the fallen cake house. "There's going to be a board meeting tomorrow," she said uneasily. "Vanessa, you told the committee Willow House was donating its building to the Christmas outreach program."

I stepped forward. "Donating?"

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Denise's face went white. "You didn't know? The foundation already announced the sale proceeds."