Chapter 5
Camila kept one hand on the back of Lorenzo’s chair while she watched me cross the dining room.
The crystal lights made everything too bright. Snow clung to the hem of my skirt and melted onto the polished floor, leaving small dark drops behind me. I could feel them as clearly as the cold still trapped beneath my collar.
Camila’s gaze lowered to my shoes, then rose to my face.
“Where have you been?”
“Getting the wine.”
“You've been gone long enough to pick the grapes yourself.”
No one at the table moved. The guests had learned how to pretend not to listen. Their forks rested beside their plates. Their eyes stayed on their food.
I set the bottle near Camila’s glass. “The terrace door was difficult to open.”
Lorenzo looked at me then, but he said nothing.
Camila touched the diamond at her left ear. It flashed beneath the chandelier. “Difficult?”
“There was snow against it.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
I kept my hands folded in front of me. The wire under my sleeve pressed against my wrist. “I couldn't find anything else.”
Her expression changed by almost nothing. A small tightening beside her mouth. “You were sent to find my earring.”
“I found one.”
A silence opened across the table.
Camila’s fingers went still against the diamond.
Lorenzo turned in his chair. “You found it?”
I nodded.
“Where is it?”
I looked at Camila. The note beneath my sleeve seemed to grow heavier. If I gave her the earring, the wire would be noticed. If I kept it, she would search me.
“In the service room,” I said. “I wanted to dry it before I brought it in.”
Camila’s eyes sharpened. “Bring it to me.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Lorenzo’s voice stayed calm. “She just came in from the storm.”
Camila didn’t look at him. “I wasn't speaking to you.”
His jaw shifted once. It was the only sign that her words had reached him.
I took the wine bottle and moved toward the service door. Before I could reach it, Camila said, “You have something under your sleeve.”
My fingers tightened.
“It’s wet,” I said.
“Then show me.”
The dining room seemed to contract around us. I thought of the man in the hall, his breath carrying snow and cigarette smoke. You should've left when you had the chance.
Lorenzo rose.
Not quickly. Not dramatically. He simply stood, and the motion drew every eye in the room.
“Camila,” he said, “the guests are waiting.”
Her attention shifted to him. The interruption gave me one breath.
I walked through the service door.
The hallway beyond was colder and dimmer. I didn't run. Running would have made me look guilty. I carried the bottle to the sideboard, placed it beside the silver napkin rings, and kept my back straight while my pulse battered against my throat.
A few seconds later, Lorenzo entered.
“Did you bring the earring?”
“No.”
He studied me. “Why did you lie?”
“Because she wanted to see what was under my sleeve.”
“Is it the note?”
“Yes.”
“And the earring?”
I reached into the pocket sewn inside my apron and pulled it out. The diamond lay against my palm, bright and clean despite the snow.
Lorenzo’s eyes moved from it to my face.
“This isn't the earring she’s wearing,” he said.
I looked toward the dining room.
Camila’s left ear held a diamond. The one in my hand had a different setting—smaller, with a thin silver claw bent at an angle.
“How can you tell?”
“Because I saw hers when she arrived.”
The sound of a chair scraping reached us through the door.
Lorenzo lowered his voice. “Put it away.”
“She has another one.”
“Then don't give her this one yet.”
I closed my fingers around the diamond. “Why?”
May you like
He looked toward the terrace corridor, where the locked west door waited beyond the kitchen.
“Because someone wanted you to find it.”
