I turned toward her slowly.
“Handle what?”
Neither answered.
Then the elevator doors opened.
Ethan’s brother walked out.
He looked as though he had aged ten years overnight.
He saw Ethan first.
Then me.
Then his mother.
Nobody moved.
Finally, he said, “Maya, did you get my messages?”
My stomach tightened.
“The unknown number was you?”
He nodded.
Ethan stepped forward.
“What messages?”
His brother ignored him.
“I saw her with the bracelet yesterday afternoon.”
I felt the corridor tilt beneath me.
“What do you mean, saw her with it?”
He pulled out his phone, but before he could unlock it Ethan grabbed his wrist.
“Not here.”
His brother looked down at Ethan’s hand.
“Take your hand off me.”
Ethan did.
His brother unlocked the phone and showed me a photograph.
It had been taken through the doorway of his mother’s guest room.
My sister-in-law was standing beside a dresser.
On the dresser was the crimson velvet box Ethan had placed in front of me at the restaurant.
The photograph was timestamped hours before our anniversary dinner.
I looked at Ethan.
“You told me you picked it up from the jeweler on your way to the restaurant.”
“I did.”
His brother shook his head.
“No.
Mom picked it up for you because your meeting ran late.
You left it at her house until dinner.”
Ethan’s mother went rigid.
I understood immediately.
My sister-in-law had access to the bracelet before Ethan gave it to me.
His brother swiped to another photograph.
This one showed his wife holding the bracelet close to the lamp.
The clasp was open.
“What is she doing?” I asked.
“I didn’t know,” he said.
“That’s why I took the pictures.”
Ethan stared at him.
“And instead of stopping her, you photographed her?”
His brother’s expression hardened.
“I asked her what she was doing.
She slammed the box shut and told me your mother had asked her to check the clasp.”
We all looked at Ethan’s mother.
“I never said that,” she whispered.
His brother continued.
“Later, I found out Maya was wearing it at dinner.
I didn’t know what had been done to it.
