“I stopped counting after that.”
The courtroom went very quiet.
“Your Honor,” said Denise, “one more witness.”
The doors at the back opened.
My mother walked up the aisle.
She was seventy-one, small and immaculate in a navy dress, and in her hands she held a blue velvet box.
She did not look at me.
She walked all the way to the rail, laid the box on the wood, and opened it.
The sapphire drop caught the light.
“This is my mother’s necklace,” Patricia Carter said, in a thin, clear voice.
“Fourteen months ago, Ashley Rourke handed it to me and told me she had found it in Emily’s bag.”
“I wanted to believe her.”
“I wanted a reason.”
“I let her put it in my hand, and I never asked a single question, and I have not sl*pt properly since.”
She turned, finally, to Emily.
“I’m so sorry, my dear.”
