Chapter 37 Three Moves Ahead
In my last life, it had started the same way.
Midway through the party, Apple suddenly cried out that her grandmother’s heirloom bracelet was missing.
She said it had not matched her dress, so she had placed it safely in her clutch.
She cried openly, devastated, insisting it was precious, an heirloom that meant everything to her.
And then, somehow, it had been found in my handbag.
Most likely she’d paid a waiter to slip it inside while circulating between the tables. The same waiter had “accidentally” knocked my bag to the floor so it spilled open, the bracelet tumbling out in full view. Proof, delivered on cue.
They said I was jealous. That I’d stolen it.
No matter what I said, no one believed me. Marissa had smiled tightly and suggested we discuss it at home, urging the party to continue while whispers followed me behind polite smiles.
I remembered the humiliation.
So when it happened again, when Apple’s voice cut through the low hum of conversation, sharp and panicked enough to draw attention, I knew exactly what she was trying to do.
“Oh no.” Apple pressed a hand to her chest. “My bracelet. Where is my bracelet?”
Heads turned. Conversations faltered.
“That bracelet was just here,” she continued. “I took it off because it didn’t match my dress, and I put it in my clutch. I swear I did.”
Here we go again.
“Everyone, please help look,” someone said.
Guests began to search. Someone crouched. Someone else lifted tablecloths slightly. People checked under chairs, beneath tables, even near the stage. Nearly ten minutes passed like that, but nothing surfaced.
My father’s patience snapped first.
“Apple,” he said, clearly displeased now, embarrassment edging into his voice. “How could you be so careless? It was on your wrist, wasn’t it?”
“I know,” she said shakily. “I am sorry, Dad. I did not mean to. I took it off because it did not match my dress and put it in my clutch. I swear it was there. I do not understand how it could just disappear.”
She looked exactly like an innocent girl who had misplaced something precious.
Marissa stepped in immediately.
“Brandon, don’t blame her,” she said, hand smoothing Apple’s back. “Maybe she just forgot where she put it. The hall isn’t that big, and everyone here is a friend. We’ll find it.”
A woman nearby nodded. “She is right. Apple, think. Where did you put it last?”
Apple shook her head helplessly, tears streaking her makeup. “I do not know. I cannot remember. I feel terrible. Grandma said it has been in the family for four generations. I should not have accepted it. I am so stupid.”
I watched her from a few steps away, my expression carefully neutral.
A week earlier, on my birthday, Marissa’s mother had given us gifts. To me, she had handed a simple pair of pearl earrings and used the word heirloom.
I had known better. She had probably pulled them from a jewelry box that morning. After all, I was not really her granddaughter.
I’d smiled. Thanked her. Said nothing.
To Apple, she’d presented that antique green bracelet, calling it a family heirloom too.
I remembered the moment clearly, the flicker that crossed Apple’s face when she opened the box.
The brief tightening of her mouth. The flash of disdain she hadn’t managed to hide quickly enough before she caught herself.
Then the performance had begun.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she’d said. “It means so much to our family. I absolutely love it. I’ll cherish it forever.”
Forever had lasted exactly one week.
My father sighed now, rubbing his temple. “It’s just a bracelet. If we can’t find it, then we can’t.”
But Apple didn’t stop.
“But it’s from Grandma,” she sobbed. “She’s never given me anything like that before. It meant so much.”
People exchanged glances. The discomfort in the room thickened.
Apple’s eyes flicked through the crowd.
I followed her gaze.
A waiter moved. He drifted toward us carrying a tray of empty glasses, eyes fixed just past my shoulder.
I shifted instinctively, stepping aside.
He collided with Amy instead.
Her bag slipped from her arm and hit the floor, spilling open.
Something silver caught the light.
“There!” one of Apple’s friends shrieked, already pointing. “That’s it! The bracelet!”
Amy froze.
“What?” she said, stunned. “What are you talking about?”
The girl rushed forward, snatched the item from the floor, and held it up triumphantly.
“See? I knew it. It’s right here! Looks like we found the thief.”
A ripple moved through the surrounding guests. Sharp inhales, murmurs, the unmistakable thrill of scandal.
My jaw tightened.
I’d been careful. Deliberately so. I had brought a small clutch tonight, sleek and structured, barely large enough for my phone and lipstick. Impossible to slip anything into unnoticed.
Which meant Apple hadn’t aimed for me this time.
She’d aimed for Amy.
Because Amy was my friend.
I stepped forward before anyone else could speak.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
The girl shot me an offended look. “Your friend stole Apple’s bracelet.”
“Let me see it,” I said calmly.
She hesitated, then thrust it toward me.
One glance was enough.
“That’s not the same bracelet,” I said flatly. “I was there when Grandma gave it to Apple. This isn’t it.”
Amy found her voice then. “That’s mine,” she said sharply. “Give it back.”
The girl scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
Before I could speak again, Liam stepped forward.
“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone edged with authority. “I’m a police officer.” His eyes locked onto the girl. “And you just accused my sister of theft. On what grounds?”
The girl faltered.
Her gaze flicked over her shoulder. Straight to Apple.
Confusion crossed her face. Then panic.
“She… she must’ve taken it,” the girl said, grasping for certainty that wasn’t there. “It was in her bag.”
“Because it’s her bracelet,” Liam replied. He held out his hand. “I’m going to need you to return my sister’s property. Now.”
She hesitated.
“And for the record,” he continued, “accusing someone of theft without evidence is defamation.”
That did it.
She dropped the bracelet into Liam’s hands like it burned.
“But—” she started.
I tilted my head slightly, my voice low and even, quiet enough that only the people closest could hear.
“You’re very brave,” I said softly, “for someone doing someone else’s dirty work.”
Her brows knit together. “What are you talking about?”
I glanced past her, just briefly, toward Apple, who stood a few steps back, hands clasped in front of her, eyes wide, perfectly innocent. Watching. Waiting.
“Interesting,” I continued, my tone almost conversational, “how you were so quick to accuse. So eager to perform. Yet the person who actually lost the bracelet hasn’t moved an inch.”
The girl’s jaw tightened.
“I was just trying to help,” she snapped. “That bracelet means everything to Apple.”
“Of course it does,” I replied. “Which is why she let you take the risk instead of stepping forward herself.”
Her jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Liam cleared his throat beside me, unimpressed.
“I suggest,” he said calmly, “you step away before you turn this into something much harder to walk back.”
The girl stared at us for a long, burning second, then spun on her heel and stormed off, humiliated and furious.
Silence.
Liam redirected smoothly. “Perhaps,” he said, turning toward Apple, “the most logical step would be to actually search Apple's bag properly. This has gone on long enough.”
A ripple of agreement moved through the nearby guests.
Apple frowned, irritation flickering across her face, but she nodded. She had nothing to hide. That much she believed.
She opened her bag and began to rummage through it in front of everyone. Lipstick. Phone. Tissues. A compact. Then she froze.
Slowly, she reached into a zippered inner pocket and pulled something out.
Broken emerald stones spilled into her palm.
“No,” Apple whispered. “That’s ..that’s not possible. I didn’t…” She shook her head, eyes darting wildly. “Someone must have broken it and put it back in my bag...”
Her words trailed off as the absurdity of them became obvious even to her.
Nick stared at her, disbelief written openly across his face.
Payton’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Dad rubbed his temples, frustration finally breaking through his carefully maintained composure. Marissa’s smile fractured at the edges.
“This has gone on long enough,” he said sharply. “It’s a bracelet. Accidents happen. But this—” He gestured around the hall, at the stares, the whispers, the tension thickening the air. “—was unnecessary.”
Marissa stepped in immediately, voice light, soothing, damage-control polished.
“Let’s all calm down,” she said. “This was just a misunderstanding.”
Apple lifted her head slowly.
She looked around the room, at the guests, at the faces that had shifted from sympathy to discomfort, at the friends who no longer looked so certain.
Then her gaze locked onto mine.
I raised an eyebrow.
And smiled.
You’re no match for me.
Marissa clapped her hands together softly, as if closing a chapter. “Why do we not all take our seats,” she said brightly. “We have a slideshow prepared. Photos from the girls’ childhood, their achievements. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening.”
Guests drifted back toward their tables, murmuring under their breath.
Payton paused beside me on her way back to her seat. She leaned in, voice low.
“What the hell was that?”
I shrugged lightly. “Beats me.”
She shook her head slowly and walked away.
Across the room, Nick sat rigid at his table, jaw tight, staring straight ahead.
Apple sat beside him, frozen, hands clenched in her lap.
I watched them for a moment, then turned my gaze back to the stage as the lights dimmed again.
The party wasn’t over yet.
Not even close.