“It’s from the Holtzman House in New York City. From when my grandmother arrived there as a kid.”
Her mouth parted. “How did she get that necklace?”
“Probably from her family before she came over.” Why would she lie to me? I’d known she didn’t like me, but you couldn’t justlie.
“No.” Helen shook her head. Her voice was oddly hollow, surprise echoing through her words. “It was from Edward.”
“Oh.” A terrible inkling slipped up the back of my spine.
“He gave it to me. It was his mother’s.”
I stared at her.
Helen’s lips pressed together, so like her grandson’s. Then she handed my phone back, and her motions became precise and sharp. “Come along. I believe we both need some questions answered.”
Twenty-Six
Helen swept across the crowded lawn and I followed in her wake. No one seemed to notice the fury in every line of her body. She paused in front of her husband, who sat in a chair facing two older men. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said to the pair, her bearing regal. “I need a moment with my husband.”
They practically bowed as they left.
Helen Barbanel did not sit. Instead, she towered over her husband, righteous fury in a sky-blue gown. Her voice didn’t tremble when she spoke, but I could see the quiver in her fingers as she unclasped the necklace. She held it up. “This young lady says the necklace never belonged to you.”
Edward Barbanel closed his eyes.
“Is this true?” his wife pressed. “This necklace doesn’t belong to your family? It came from Ruth Goldman?”
Still he said nothing.
“Answer me,” Helen hissed, so low none of the nearby guests could overhear. “Or at least tell me it’s not true.”
He groaned, deep in his throat.
She sucked in a deep breath, then turned to me. Pulling my hand from my side, she pressed the necklace into it. “Take it.”
I stood stock-still.
She turned back on her husband. “I am not a thief, EdwardBarbanel. You’ve embarrassed me.” She strode away, flinging herself back into her guests with a wide smile and a laugh as bright and cold as diamonds.
Leaving me facing Edward Barbanel. I blinked at the elderly man, then looked down at the sparkling pendants in my grasp. “Do you... what...” I held it out to him uncertainly.
He turned his head away. “Go,” he said.
So I did. I stuffed the necklace in my pocket, and walked right out of the party. With shaking fingers, I summoned a car, then tried to calm myself by taking giant, gulping breaths and staring up at the moon.
“Abigail.”
I turned. Noah stood behind me. His hair was tousled, by his fingers or the wind, his expression bleak. “You’re not leaving?”
I was so mad at him. I didn’t know if my anger was rational or ridiculous, but it wasthere, a deep-seated, unyielding fury. A sense of betrayal and humiliation. He’d known what I wanted and treated it as unimportant. Fine. I didn’t need that in my life.
“Can we talk about this?”
“No.”
“Abigail.”He strode closer. “I’mleavingtomorrow.”
“So leave.” I turned away from him.
