Dad’s stance shifted. “There must be some mistake.”
Harlow lifted a brow, his glasses slipping to the tip of his nose. “Mr. Belrose, is it? Her father?”
“Yes.”
“It’s best if you let us come in.”
Dad hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he stepped aside.
Harlow and Ramirez crossed the threshold. Then Harlow turned to me. “Miss Belrose, where were you between 2 and 4 a.m. on Saturday?”
My brow furrowed. “Here. Sleeping.”
Ramirez reached into his jacket, pulling out a small evidence bag. Inside was a single black leather glove. “Is this yours?”
I released a half sigh. The glove looked exactly like mine. But that wasn’t possible. Both my gloves were in my closet. I was sure of it.
“No,” I said firmly.
Dad’s breath hitched beside me. “There must be a mistake.”
Ramirez flipped the glove, revealing a small button, where a strand of dark brown hair clung to the thread.
“Miss Belrose, this was recovered from the crime scene,” Harlow said smoothly. “Care to explain?”
Panic surged in my chest. “That’s not mine.”
Ramirez’s lips curled. “You sure about that? Because this little strand right here?” He tapped the evidence bag. “It’s being processed as we speak. And we both know how that’s gonna turn out.”
My blood ran ice-cold.
The noise I’d heard at the mansion just before I left.
Someone had been there.
And they’d planted evidence.
That man rummaging inside my car the other night…he hadn’t tried to steal it.
“You got that hair from my car, didn’t you? It was you!” I said, my voice rising.
“Careful now, Miss Belrose,” he said.
The front door creaked open, and my mother stepped inside. She took one look at the officers and paled.
Harlow turned, straightening to his full height, towering over us. “We have a search warrant.”
The next moments blurred. They tore through my room, flipping cushions, emptying drawers, and pulling my clothes from my closets. My father argued, but it didn’t matter. Then, one of them found it.
The necklace. Wrapped neatly in a gift box.
“Maya?” Mom’s voice was hoarse.
“It’s yours, Mom!” My breath hitched. “I was going to surprise you.”
Harlow didn’t flinch. “Maya Belrose, you are under arrest for burglary.”
A brutal hand clamped around my wrist, and metal bit into my skin.
