He crouched beside the shattered crate, rain soaking through his jacket. The beam from his flashlight sliced across splintered wood and something dark inside—velvet, not packing paper. His brow furrowed. Furniture wasn’t lined in velvet. He brushed away wet debris, heartbeat thudding louder with each second.
One corner had split wider than the rest. Inside, light caught on something too vivid for varnish—shards of blue, green, and red glimmering under the beam. He leaned closer, blinking through the rain. “What in God’s name…” he whispered, half afraid to believe what he was seeing.