I spread the photos beneath the kitchen light and studied them for a long time. My eyes hadn’t deceived me at dinner.
The pendant in every image was identical to the one resting against Claire’s collarbone. And I was the only living person who knew about the tiny hinge on the left side. My mother had shown it to me in private the summer I turned twelve and told me the heirloom had been passed down for three generations.
Claire’s father had given it to her when she was young. That meant he’d possessed it for at least twenty-five years.
I glanced at the clock. It was almost 10:05. I picked up my phone. I’d been told her father was traveling and wouldn’t return for two days. I wasn’t willing to wait that long.
Claire had given me his number casually, assuming I wanted to introduce myself before wedding plans became serious. I let her believe that.
