Andrew spoke softly. “That looks like Mrs. Lewis’s ring… the one she said she lost.”
My stomach twisted.
I unfolded the note.
“Just a few more days… and it’ll finally be ours.”
Nothing about it felt innocent.
A thought hit me hard—what if I had missed something? What if, all these years, I had been so focused on holding everything together… that I hadn’t seen what was really happening?
“Bree,” Andrew said gently, “we don’t know the full story yet.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I’m scared.”
“If we react too quickly, we might hurt her,” he added carefully.
That stayed with me.
So I decided not to react.
I decided to find the truth first.
That evening, dinner felt different. It was still loud, still chaotic—but I wasn’t part of it the same way.
I was watching.
