Chapter 1 - THE BOY BEHIND THE CURTAIN
The handcuffs had barely clicked shut when the boy behind the curtains said, “Ask her why your dead wife still gets mail.”
Nobody moved.
Not the guests holding champagne glasses. Not the officer gripping Lucie’s arm. Not Alexandre Delcourt, who had spent fifteen years believing his first wife was buried beneath a white stone cross.
Across the room, Valérie went still.
“Mathéo,” she said softly. “Come here.”
The eight-year-old pressed himself against the window.
“No.”
Lucie’s wrists burned inside the cuffs. Ten minutes earlier, Valérie had accused her of stealing a diamond necklace. Five minutes earlier, a search had turned up nothing. It hadn’t mattered.
Valérie had pointed at Lucie’s worn shoes and said, “People like her always need money.”
Now the same woman was smiling at a terrified child.
“Sweetheart, you’ve misunderstood something.”
“I saw you,” Mathéo said.
Officer Moreau turned. “What did you see?”
“She took the necklace out of her pocket. Then she put it in her purse.”
Valérie laughed once.
“Children make things up.”
Mathéo’s eyes filled. “You said Lucie had to leave before Uncle Alex saw the pictures.”
Alexandre set down his glass.
“What pictures?”
Valérie stepped toward the boy. Lucie moved between them before she thought about it.
“Don’t touch him.”
The officer tightened his grip. “Stay where you are.”
“Then keep her away from him.”
Something in her voice made Alexandre finally look at her.
Not at her uniform. Not at the cuffs.
At her face.
“Search the purse,” he said.
“Alexandre, this is humiliating.”
“Then it should be over quickly.”
Valérie held the bag against her ribs until Officer Moreau reached for it.
The necklace lay beneath a lipstick case.
Nobody spoke while the officer lifted it.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Valérie pressed her fingers to her temple. “I put it away myself. I’ve been under terrible stress.”
Lucie stared at the diamonds.
Her mother’s rent was late. Her own refrigerator held half a carton of milk. Valérie had almost sent her to jail over jewelry worth more than Lucie could earn in years.
Alexandre looked at the officer.
“Take those cuffs off her.”
The release made Lucie’s hands shake harder.
“What pictures?” he asked again.
She pulled back the stitched label inside her collar and removed a tiny memory card.
Valérie stopped pretending to smile.
Before Lucie could explain, her phone vibrated in her apron.
A message from an unknown number filled the screen.
A photograph of her mother outside her apartment building.
May you like
Under it were six words.
Give her the card. Right now.
