My heart just dropped straight through the floor. He had the earrings, the real ones, in his hand.
The room went as quiet as a mouse.
“Where?” I managed to choke out.
“Your little paint box. Under the bed.” He said it casual, like he’d found a lost sock. “I was looking for a missing cufflink. Imagine my surprise.”
The paint box. He’d found my cash. He had to have found the cash.
“You took your grandmother’s things, Clara. You pawned them for cash.” He took a step into the room. He closed the door softly behind him. “You lied to me again.”
All I could think was: The cash is gone. My escape money is gone. The thought was so loud it drowned out the fear.
“I needed money,” I whispered. It was the only truth I had left.
“For what?” His voice was dangerously calm. “What could you possibl
