I Broke It

Crack. In Sam's hands, the old coffee mug came apart. Gran's most precious thing. From somewhere down the hall, Gran is still humming her little tune. And no one saw.

Sam opens both hands, slow. The pieces are cold. However hard Sam squeezes, they will not go back together. Sam looks all around, fast — no one. No one saw. And that felt a little bit safe. And a little bit scary.

Every single morning, someone used to drink from this mug. Now — no one does. Sam doesn't know who it was. But Sam knows it matters, a lot. Then Sam sees it: the dark gap behind the cupboard. If the pieces just slipped in there… The white cat lets out a low mew and turns its head. Biscuit looks at the cat.

Tap, tap. Footsteps, coming down the hall. The humming stops. Gran is on her way. The pieces are still in Sam's hands. Biscuit looks up at Sam. Say it now? Or hide it behind the cupboard? — What will Sam do?