Chapter 1
The glass railing was cold against my back and the city was too bright behind it. Lucy stood two feet away holding her phone out toward me like an offering, her blonde hair catching the warm light from the living room, her beige blouse perfectly pressed even though her hand was shaking. The dark-haired woman in the reflection behind her was me, but I didn't recognize myself. I was wearing the black square-neck dress they'd picked out for me, and where the heavy diamond choker with the pear-shaped pendant should have been, there was only a thin gold chain with an oval locket. The floral border caught the light when I breathed. I could feel its weight like a thumbprint on my skin.
Ethan hadn't moved from the doorway. He was still in his white shirt and dark trousers, the white papers folded in his hand creasing where his fingers tightened. He wasn't looking at Lucy or the skyline. He was watching me look at the locket, and that was the contradiction that wouldn't settle — he looked terrified that I was finally seeing it, and relieved that I hadn't screamed.
My name is Victoria and I was twenty-six standing on a balcony that wasn't mine anymore.
It was just past ten at night. The apartment had that quiet hum high-rises get after the traffic thins, the heater ticking, the refrigerator running somewhere behind the marble island. Inside, the television was on and too large for the room, and it was mirroring what was on Lucy's phone. I had watched her thumb swipe once, then again. First the COLE FAMILY chat, white bubbles on gray. DON'T LET VICTORIA FIND OUT ABOUT LUCY. LUCY IS BETTER FOR ETHAN. Keep Victoria close. Then the photo. Snow, bright and overexposed, a pair of boots on a slope, and under it in small gray text, EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO. On the big screen the same image doubled, and then it moved — my mom in her burgundy velvet top, pearl earrings glinting, skiing slowly down a gentle run and waving at whoever was filming. She looked happy. She looked like she didn't know she was being recorded for evidence.
I didn't take the phone. I lifted my hand to my throat instead. The locket was warm. The chain was so thin I had to pinch it to feel it. My fingers had a light manicure, pale pink, and they trembled against the engraved edge. Not a lot. Just enough that the gold caught and lost the light, caught and lost it. I hadn't noticed when the diamonds had disappeared. That was the part that made my chest go tight. Somewhere between the entryway and this balcony, someone had unclasped one necklace and closed another, and I had let them.
Ethan shifted his weight. "It's not what you think," he said.
I didn't answer him at first. I kept my eyes on Lucy.
Lucy said, "We were going to tell you."
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You use my signature as a key.
My voice came out quieter than I expected, and calm. I wasn't sure until I heard it that I had actually said it out loud. The locket was still between my fingers. Behind Lucy, through the glass doors, the living room glowed warm against the cool blue night, the TV still frozen on my mom on the snow, Ethan's papers still folded, the balcony door still closed behind us and none of us moving to open it.
