Chapter 1 - the invitation with no name)
Thirty-seven days before the wedding, Claire Monroe received an envelope with no return address.
It arrived on a Tuesday morning while Lily was eating banana slices at the kitchen island and Ethan was standing near the coffee machine arguing with someone about security arrangements.
Their apartment occupied the top three floors of an old Manhattan building Ethan's family had renovated years earlier. The windows faced the river, and on clear mornings sunlight traveled across the kitchen floor in long golden rectangles.
Claire had once thought rooms like this belonged only in magazines.
Now there were plastic cups in the cabinets, stuffed animals beneath the sofas, and tiny fingerprints on the windows.
Lily had made the place real.
Claire opened the envelope without thinking.
Inside was a photograph.
Her mother stood in front of a ruined stone arch.
Claire recognized the place immediately.
Saint Orison.
The cliffside ruins where she and Ethan were going to be married.
Her mother had been dead for seventeen years.
Claire stared at the photograph.
"Everything okay?"
Ethan's voice came from across the kitchen.
Claire turned the photograph over.
Four words had been written on the back.
Do not marry there.
Claire's pulse changed.
"Ethan."
He came closer.
She handed him the photograph.
At first he looked confused.
Then something disappeared from his expression.
It happened so quickly Claire might have missed it if she had not spent three years learning every small movement in his face.
"You know this picture."
"No."
"You reacted."
"I reacted because someone sent my fiancée a photograph of her dead mother with a threat written on it."
"It isn't exactly a threat."
"Claire."
"Where was this taken?"
Ethan studied the image again.
"Saint Orison."
"I know that."
She pointed toward the background.
"That doorway behind her. It isn't part of the section we've been shown."
Ethan looked away.
Lily slapped the tray of her high chair and laughed.
The normal little sound felt strange against the sudden silence.
Claire lowered her voice.
"Did my mother know your family?"
"I don't know."
"You didn't say no."
"Because I don't know."
Ethan placed the photograph on the counter.
"We should give this to security."
Claire watched him.
"Ethan, my mother died when I was twelve."
"I know."
"She died in Boston."
"I know."
"Saint Orison is in Colorado."
He said nothing.
"Why was she there?"
"I have no idea."
His answer came too quickly.
Claire felt the first crack in something she had believed was solid.
She had met Ethan Ashford at a children's hospital charity gala three years earlier. He had been quiet for a man whose last name appeared on buildings. Claire had expected arrogance and found awkward humor instead.
Lily had come later.
Unexpectedly.
Beautifully.
Their relationship had never been simple, but it had always felt honest.
Until that morning.
Ethan picked up his phone.
"I'm calling Marcus."
Marcus Bell ran the private security company hired for their wedding.
"No."
Ethan looked at her.
"I want to know who sent it first."
"That's what Marcus can find out."
"And what if the person is trying to warn me?"
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Then they can warn you without sending photographs of your dead mother."
Claire picked up the photograph again.
There was something familiar about her mother's expression.
She was not smiling.
She was looking toward the camera as if she had been interrupted.
Around her neck was a necklace Claire remembered from childhood.
A thin silver chain.
A strange oval pendant.
Claire had not thought about it in years.
She touched the image.
"My mother gave me that necklace."
Ethan stared at the pendant.
This time he could not hide his reaction.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You know what that is."
"Claire."
"What is it?"
Before Ethan could answer, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His father.
Richard Ashford.
Ethan rejected the call.
Seconds later it rang again.
He rejected it again.
Claire felt cold.
"Why is your father calling you right now?"
"It's coincidence."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
Lily began asking for more banana.
Claire walked to the refrigerator and opened it.
Her hands were shaking.
"Ethan, I'm going to ask you one question."
He waited.
"Has anyone in your family ever met my mother?"
There was a long silence.
Then Ethan said, "My father might have."
Claire turned.
"Might have?"
"Years ago."
"How?"
"I don't know everything."
"How much do you know?"
Ethan rubbed a hand over his face.
Before he could answer, the apartment intercom sounded.
Their doorman spoke through the panel.
"Ms. Monroe, there's a woman downstairs asking for you."
Claire looked toward the screen.
"Who?"
"She wouldn't give her name."
Ethan immediately reached for his phone.
"Tell her to leave."
The doorman hesitated.
"She says you'll want to see what she's carrying."
Claire's heartbeat quickened.
"What is she carrying?"
May you like
The doorman answered.
"A silver necklace."
