Chapter 4

Nora came running down the stairs, clutching an empty jewelry box. 

“Claire, how could you steal my mother’s keepsake just because you’re mad at me? That’s the only thing she left me. Please give it back. I’ll drop to my knees right now.” 

She stumbled clumsily before me and sank to her knees, putting on an over–the–top wailing act. “Claire, just return it. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything you ask, be your maid, anything.” 

Her eyes landed on my lumpy arm. She changed tack mid–sentence. “Did you hide my mother’s keepsake inside your arm?” 

I shook my head frantically. “No. I didn’t. Really. My arm looks like this because the cotton didn’t get packed evenly.” 

Nora’s expression flickered–cold and sharp, a hidden thrill lurking beneath her fake worry. 

“Then tear your arm stuffing open and show us everything. If you didn’t hide anything, why are you so afraid to prove it?”