Millie’s response was almost instinctive.

“Didn’t you summon me?”

“When did I…?”

Marcus’ voice trailed off, urgency replacing confusion. He lunged, his hands seizing the porcelain fragments from Millie’s grasp.

“Millie, you’ve shattered the precious porcelain!”

His voice had a winter chill.

Millie’s heart stopped.

porcelain?” she echoed, her mind

Which porcelain?

heartbeat—two seconds of suspended time—for Millie to regain herself,

break it. You’ve misunderstood.” Her voice was a

know the true value of the porcelain, Millie knew full well the fury simmering in Marcus’ eyes. She raced to deny any

these shards lie treacherously at my feet? And who beckoned me to this

her head, threatening to burst

Mae’s hurried summons played back, and a realization washed over Millie:

porcelain, an artifact from antiquity, holds more than just age within its delicate form. It bears the fingerprints of my great grandfather’s legacy. It’s a treasure not for its years, but for the stories it carries. How could

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