“Sure,” I said scornfully. I was so hot, so terribly, terribly hot. The only way to protect myself was to ice over, a shell of unyielding cold. “Which is why you said something right away instead of taking a shot of champagne.”
“I was processing.”
“How long does it take you to process? Dammit, Noah.” I gripped my skirt, fingers crushing the pale tulle. My voice went high and tight. “You didn’t even tell me afterBoston.”
His face softened and he reached for me. “Abigail—”
I stumbled back. My face was hot and my heart fast as a hummingbird. “You don’t keep secrets like this.”
“By Boston—I thought it was a moot point. It didn’t matter. We’dfigured out—we thought the necklace belonged to my grandfather. Why add fuel to the fire?”
“It’s about trust, Noah. And being honest.”
“It would have upset you.”
“Then upset me! I’d rather be upset than oblivious! God!” I raked my hands through my hair. “You should have told me. You shouldn’t have pretended to help me when you weren’t.”
“I was trying to balance—”
“But you didn’t, Noah. You didn’t balance me and your family. You chose them.” I shook my head. “You know what? You’re right. We barely knew each other. We still barely know each other.” I summoned the ice again, stiffening my spine and lifting my chin. “I want it back.”
“What?” He almost looked confused.
“I want the necklace back.”
“You’re being impulsive—”
“Don’t tell me what I’m doing or being. It’s my grandma’s, isn’t it? She asked for it back. She told him to send it to her, and he refused.”
“That wasagesago.”
“And so was Elgin stealing the Parthenon’s marbles, and so was the Rosetta Stone, and it’s still a terrible excuse.” Maybe those weren’t the strongest examples, given how the British Museum still hadn’t returned the items to Greece or Egypt. “I want it.”
“It’s been my grandmother’s for fifty years!”
“And who knows how many years it was in my family for? Either you can talk to your family, or I will.”
“Abigail—” He grabbed my arm.
I shook him off. “I mean it, Noah.” I pushed past him, back through the rose garden, barely keeping it together as I reemerged onto the lawn. The guests smiling faces blended in a chaotic, maddeningmess, a swirl of too-bright eyes and high-pitched laughter. I stumbled through them, heading toward the front.
I hadn’t meant to confront Helen Barbanel. I really hadn’t.
But when then she was in front of me, in her blue gown like an ice queen. The jewels glittered at her neck. The words burst out of me. “Why did you say your husband gave my grandmother the necklace?”
“Excuse me?” She turned her cool, impenetrable gaze on me.
“I know it’s not true. I found an old photo of my grandmother wearing the necklace.”
Her expression didn’t even flicker. “What do you mean, dear?”
“A photo from when she was a child. It was Ruth’s necklace. It was always her necklace.”
Helen tilted her head, a pitying smile on her face. “It belonged to Edward’s mother. Ruth probably borrowed it to try on.”
“No.” I stood my ground. “This photo is from before she ever came to Golden Doors.” I turned my phone toward her. “See?”
She took my phone. Blinked. “What is this?”
