THE CAMERA SAW SOMEONE ELSE

The next morning, Margaret entered the breakfast room without greeting anyone.

Her face was colorless.

“My sapphire brooch is gone.”

Claire looked up from her coffee.

The brooch was Margaret’s most valuable personal possession, a large blue stone surrounded by diamonds. It had belonged to Nathan’s grandmother and was supposedly worth more than one hundred thousand dollars.

“When did you last see it?” Claire asked.

“Last night.”

“Was your bedroom locked?”

“Yes.”

“Then there should be no reason to suspect the staff.”

Margaret’s gaze sharpened.

“Unless someone found the spare key.”

Claire glanced toward Rosa, who stood near the sideboard.

Rosa’s hands trembled.

“Mrs. Bennett, I have never entered your bedroom without permission.”

Margaret ignored her.

“Where is Emma?”

“In the playroom.”

“Was she upstairs this morning?”

Claire placed her cup down.

“She walked past the staircase after breakfast.”

“I found a small pink hair clip beside my dressing table.”

Claire stood.

“Emma has identical clips in every room of this house.”

“It was inside my bedroom.”

“That proves nothing.”

Margaret walked closer.

“Children take things.”

“Not locked-bedroom keys.”

“Perhaps someone helped her.”

Claire understood the new accusation immediately.

Margaret was no longer merely suggesting Emma had taken the brooch. She was suggesting Claire had used her own child as part of the theft.

“That is enough,” Claire said.

Margaret’s voice became quiet.

“Do not speak to me that way in my house.”

“This is Nathan’s house.”

“It belonged to my family before he was born.”

“And Emma is Nathan’s daughter.”

Margaret’s jaw tightened.

“A fact you repeat whenever it benefits you.”

Claire stared at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Before Margaret answered, a crash sounded from the hall.

Claire hurried through the doorway.

Emma stood near the staircase beside a broken porcelain bowl. She looked frightened but unharmed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I bumped the table.”

Margaret followed Claire into the hall.

Her eyes moved from Emma to the stairs.

“What were you doing here?”

“I wanted my doll.”

“Your doll is downstairs.”

“The blue one is in my room.”

Margaret stepped toward her.

“Did you go into my bedroom?”

Emma shook her head.

“Tell the truth.”

“I didn’t.”

“Where is my blue pin?”

Emma looked confused.

“What pin?”

Margaret reached for her arm.

Claire stepped between them.

“Do not touch her.”

“I am asking a question.”

“You are interrogating a three-year-old.”

Margaret turned to Claire.

“This is what your parenting has produced. A child who breaks things, lies, and takes whatever she wants.”

Emma began to cry quietly.

Claire picked her up.

“We are leaving.”

“The roads are closed.”

“Then we will stay at the hotel near the highway.”

“You would risk driving in a storm because you cannot accept discipline?”

Claire carried Emma toward the stairs.

“I am leaving because my daughter should not have to defend herself against an adult who has already decided she is guilty.”

Margaret called after her.

“If you walk away from this house, do not expect Nathan to support you.”

Claire stopped.

Margaret had found the one threat she believed would work.

For several seconds, Claire imagined Nathan’s reaction. He would ask her to be patient. He would say his mother was frightened about the missing jewelry. He would promise to speak with Margaret later.

Later had become Nathan’s favorite word.

Claire continued upstairs.

In Emma’s room, she packed clothes into a small suitcase. Emma sat on the bed holding a stuffed rabbit.

“Is Grandma mad at me?”

“No, sweetheart.”

“She thinks I’m bad.”

Claire knelt in front of her.

“You are not bad. You did not do anything wrong.”

“Will Daddy think I’m bad?”

The question struck Claire harder than Margaret’s accusations.

“No. Daddy loves you.”

Her phone vibrated.