Chapter 3

By eight-thirty, the main iron gates locked down tight against the storm, rain splashing against the high glass windows.

In the grand entryway, Naomi saw Tabitha catch Garrett by the arm.

She pressed an old brass key into his hand, leaning up to whisper, "I found something from that night. Come to the West Guesthouse before you leave. I need to show you in private."

Garrett gave a short nod, fixing his cuff as Captain Lyle held out his coat.

"My flight to Chicago leaves from the airstrip at eight forty-five," Garrett told Naomi as she sat on the edge of Jude's bed.

"I'll be gone for three days. When I get back, I expect those papers to be in the trash."

Naomi folded one of Jude's shirts. "Have a safe flight, Garrett."

Garrett turned on his heel and left.

But instead of heading toward the airstrip, his footsteps angled down the stone path leading straight to the West Guesthouse.

At eight fifty-eight, Jude sat on his duvet, holding his smartwatch close to his mouth.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but his small jaw was tight.

"Daddy," Jude recorded into the watch, his voice trembling slightly. "You forgot my plane. You said you'd fix the wing before your trip."

He tapped the screen to send.

At nine o'clock sharp, a short voice note pinged back from Garrett's phone: "We're already up in the air, buddy. Go to sleep."

Jude listened to it twice before unclipping the watch and passing it to his mother.

"Mom," Jude whispered. "Listen."

Naomi brought the watch to her ear.

Beneath Garrett's deep voice, under the muffled background noise, a bell rang—Clang... Clang...

Nine slow chimes sounded beneath Garrett's voice.

Naomi knew that bell. It hung above the estate chapel, yards from the West Guesthouse.

Garrett wasn't in the air.

He was down at the guesthouse with Tabitha, hiding behind a cheap lie.

"Daddy isn't on the plane," Jude said softly. He looked up at Naomi, his eyes wide and anxious. "Was he mad because I kept asking about the plane?"

Naomi's chest tightened. She pulled him close, kissing his forehead.

"No, sweetheart. Daddy made a choice. It wasn't because of you."

Naomi closed her fingers around the watch until its plastic edge bit hard into her palm, the pain grounding her.

"We're leaving first thing in the morning."

She waited until Jude leaned back against his pillows before stepping into the master bedroom to grab her antique travel trunk for her passport and cash.

She walked over to the wardrobe, unlocked the bottom hidden drawer, and pulled out her brass box.

She stopped.

The lock was freshly scratched, tiny metal shavings resting on the dark wood.

Someone had tried to pick the lock within the last hour.

Someone was hunting for the one thing that could tear Tabitha's story apart: Naomi's matching half of that silver medal.