Chapter 1 - The Bracelet She Was Never Supposed to Wear
“Take that bracelet off.”
I hadn't meant to say it out loud.
But the moment I saw the thin gold chain around Vanessa Cole's wrist, the words escaped before I could stop them.
Thirty guests were seated in the private dining room of Anthony Bellini's Manhattan penthouse. And I had just told the future wife of one of New York's most powerful men to remove her jewelry.
Vanessa lowered her champagne glass. “Excuse me?”
“The bracelet,” I whispered.
A small gold butterfly hung beneath its clasp. Its left wing was crooked, exactly where my mother had damaged it fifteen years ago.
My mother had been buried wearing that bracelet.
“Where did you get it?”
Vanessa smiled. “An estate sale.”
Anthony Bellini, who had been speaking to his attorney, turned toward us. “What's wrong?”
“Your waitress thinks I've stolen her dead mother's jewelry,” Vanessa said.
Anthony examined the bracelet. His thumb stopped over the engraving on the butterfly's wing.
M.E.M.
Margaret Elaine Morgan.
“What was your mother's name?” he asked.
“Margaret Morgan.”
The color drained from his face.
“Everyone out.”
His guests left in confused silence. Vanessa protested, but Anthony sent her upstairs. Then he asked whether my mother had worked as a private nurse in Connecticut, whether I knew Samuel Price, and whether Margaret had ever mentioned the Bellini family.
My name is Claire Morgan. I was thirty-two, divorced, and raising my seven-year-old son, Noah, in Queens. My mother had died eleven years earlier in what police called a car accident. Her employer had arranged the funeral. I had never learned much about the family she worked for.
Before Anthony could explain, his eight-year-old daughter Sofia appeared in pink pajamas, holding a stuffed rabbit.
She saw the bracelet.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “that's the bracelet from the video.”
Anthony went still.
“What video?”
“The one on your computer. The lady was crying.”
Sofia turned to me. “Did your mommy have brown hair? Did she wear a blue nurse dress?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“Then it was her,” Sofia said.
Anthony called security and ordered his office locked down. Sofia held my hand.
“The lady in the video was begging Vanessa not to take the baby.”
“Baby?” I whispered.
Sofia nodded. “She said the baby wasn't supposed to leave the house.”
Anthony's phone rang. After listening, he ordered someone not to let Vanessa leave.
Then he faced me.
“Claire, did your mother ever tell you that you had a younger sister?”
“No.”
Upstairs, Vanessa screamed.
May you like
Not in anger.
In fear.
