“Mom? You okay?”
We sat down in the dining room, and Daniel started talking about their flight, but my mind was a chaotic hive of buzzing questions. How could she have that necklace? Why was she wearing it here?
I waited until the salad plates were cleared to ask the question burning in my mind.
“Grace, dear, that really is a beautiful pendant. May I ask where it’s from? It looks like a very unique antique.”
Grace smiled. “It was my mom’s. She gave it to me on my 16th birthday.”
The air in the room felt like it had turned to lead. Her mother.
“May I ask where it’s from? It looks like a very unique antique.”
I gripped my linen napkin under the table. “How lovely. Family pieces are so important.”
I searched her face. Was that a game? Was she sitting in my house, eating my food, flaunting the evidence of a decades-old betrayal?
But Grace just looked back at me with those clear, honest eyes. There was no malice there, and no hidden smirk.
Still, I had to be sure.
“Excuse me for just a moment,” I said, pushing back my chair.
