My throat closed. I forced myself to meet her eyes. "We still haven't found it."
Brooke's brows rose in surprise. She and Whitney exchanged a weighted glance. "Really?"
"It's still missing?" Whitney asked. "The police didn't find it?"
"Someone definitely stole it that night." I didn't say it must be one of their daughters. But I watched them closely.
"Someone must have misplaced it accidentally," Whitney said airily. "Or maybe Mia forgot what she did with it. I asked Peyton, but she has no idea."
"Alexis hasn't seen it, either," Brooke said.
Camille frowned down at her phone.
No one said anything. I felt their attention on me like heat. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck.
"I'm sure it'll turn up," Whitney said.
"I'm sure," I echoed faintly. I didn't share their optimism.
"What is it, Dahlia?" Rowan prodded. "There's something else bothering you. I can see it."
"Come on, Dahlia. Don't hold out on us," Brooke said, pushy as usual.
The words caught in my throat. I hadn't planned to say anything else. I didn't want to. But the silence stretched. Their expectant faces—all of them, watching me, waiting for the rest—pulled it out of me.
"There was a break-in." I kept my attention on Brooke, watching for any twitch, any sign of recognition, guilt, or realization. If it was Alexis who'd entered my house, did Brooke know? Did she suspect her own daughter? "Someone was in my house on Tuesday morning. While Mia and I were at the precinct."
All four of them spoke at once.
"What? What happened?"
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"That's terrible!"
Whitney rose abruptly and began pacing behind the sectional. "I can't believe it. Here? Really?"
"The front door was open when we got home. Whoever it was, they went into my office. They moved things. The lamp on my desk, a family photograph."
A faint ringing started in my ears. Saying it out loud made it feel less like a bad dream and more like a real thing that had happened to us.
"What did they take?" Camille asked.
I hesitated. "Just the notebook on my desk."
Brooke's brows pulled together. "That's all?"
"I know it sounds weird, but it was like they wanted me to know they'd been there. Inside my house. Like they were messing with us, trying to make us afraid."
Whitney cocked her head. "Are you sure you didn't just leave the door open? Forgot where you put your notebook last?"
I wanted to tell her I had felt the violation, deep in my bones. "I'm sure."
"Did you call the police?" Rowan asked.
"I thought maybe it was some kind of…" I searched for a word that didn't sound insane. "Misunderstanding. I wanted to ask if any of you had been over to my house and forgot to tell me."
They all looked offended at once. It was almost funny. Only I was beyond laughing.
