A crisp, cracking sound shattered the dead silence of the living room like a thunderbolt.I jolted violently, my hands and feet turning ice-cold as I stared at the pile of emerald-green fragments on the floor. That was the only keepsake Granddad had left behind. It was a finely crafted emerald signet ring.My younger brother, Thomas Werther, was turning three today. As we were going to celebrate his birthday today, my dad, Ronald Werther, had specially taken the ring out of the safe and placed it on the coffee table, intending to put it on later. But now, it lay broken into several pieces on the cold marble floor.And the culprit, Thomas, stood barefoot right next to the shards. He was wearing the custom-made suit Dad had just bought him, looking like a charming little prince.Hearing the noise, Dad, who had been changing in the bedroom, rushed out in his slippers."What happened? What was that sound..." His voice died in his throat as he took in the fragments on the floor.His
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