The pause before he answered lasted a moment longer than expected.
“It was a private purchase,” he said. “Years ago. I don’t remember the details.”
Do you remember who bought it?
Another pause. — Why do you ask?
“I’m just curious,” I told him. “It looked a lot like a piece my family used to have.”
I told her that I had admired Claire’s necklace during dinner and that I was curious to know its story.
“I’m sure there are similar pieces. I have to go.” She hung up before I could say anything else.
I called Will the next morning and told him I needed to see Claire. I was vague. I said I wanted to get to know her better, maybe look through some family photo albums.
He believed it wholeheartedly because Will always trusted me, and I felt a pang of guilt for having abused that trust.
***
That afternoon, Claire welcomed me into her apartment; it was a bright and welcoming place, and she offered me coffee even before I sat down.
I asked her about the necklace as gently as possible. She put down her cup and looked at me with an expression of genuine confusion.
“I’ve had it since I was born,” Claire said. “My father wouldn’t let me use it until I turned 18. Do you want to see it?”
