Chapter 7 7

Elodie walked out of the Stokes building. The adrenaline of the interview was fading, replaced by a dull throb in her left hand.

Arlen was standing by the curb, waiting for his Uber. He saw her and smirked.

"They kicked you out already?" he asked. "I told you."

Elodie ignored him. She tried to massage her ring finger. The swelling had gotten worse in the heat. The platinum band was cutting off circulation. Her finger was purple.

Arlen's eyes dropped to her hand. He laughed.

"Look at that," he said. "You talk a big game about divorce, but you're still wearing the ring. Three million dollars on your finger. Is that your safety net? Going to pawn it when you get hungry?"

Elodie looked at the ring. It wasn't a safety net. It was a shackle.

"It's stuck," she said.

"Sure it is," Arlen mocked. "You just can't let go of the lifestyle."

Elodie looked around. There was a hardware store across the street.

"Watch me," she said.

She crossed the street. Arlen, sensing a disaster he could report to Keyon, followed her, pulling out his phone to record.

Inside the hardware store, the smell of sawdust and metal filled the air.

"Can I help you, miss?" the clerk asked, eyeing her suit.

"I need bolt cutters," Elodie said. "The biggest ones you have."

She slapped her credit card-her new one, from the Swiss account-on the counter.

The clerk handed her a heavy pair of orange bolt cutters. They were meant for cutting padlocks.

Elodie walked back outside. She stood near a trash can.

Arlen was filming. "This is pathetic, Elodie. You're going to hurt yourself."

Elodie saw the camera lens reflecting the sunlight. She knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to humiliate her. Good. Let him broadcast her liberation.

Elodie positioned the jaws of the cutter around the platinum band. The metal was cold against her inflamed skin.

She squeezed the handles.

It was hard. Platinum is dense. Her arms shook. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Keyon's voice in her head: "It's a flawless diamond, Elodie. Don't lose it. It's worth more than you."

She gritted her teeth. She put her entire body weight into the handles.

CRACK.

The sound was sharp, like a gunshot.

The ring snapped. The tension released. The diamond fell onto the sidewalk with a tinkling sound.

Elodie dropped the cutters. She rubbed her finger. There was a deep indentation, raw and red, a scar of the marriage.

Arlen's jaw dropped. "You... you actually broke it."

Elodie bent down and picked up the two halves of the ring. The diamond was still intact, glittering in the gutter trash.

She walked past Arlen, toward the pawn shop next door.

"You're pawning it?" Arlen followed, still filming. "Keyon will love this. The desperation."

Inside the pawn shop, the broker looked at the pieces.

"It's a nice stone," he said. "But the setting is destroyed. And look at this... the cut is compromised. I can't give you retail for this. It's scrap metal and a loose stone."

"How much?" Elodie asked.

"Fifty thousand. Cash."

The ring was worth three million. Fifty thousand was an insult. It was robbery.

"Deal," Elodie said without hesitation.

"Are you insane?" Arlen shouted from the doorway. "That's a three million dollar ring! You're selling it for fifty grand?"

"It's not about the money," Elodie said to the broker. "Just get it out of my sight."

She took the stack of hundred-dollar bills. She walked out, stuffed the money into her pocket, and looked at Arlen's phone lens.

"Tell him I said keep the change."