Brad blinked. “What did you just say?”
Amelia didn’t repeat herself. She didn’t need to. The silence said enough. The way her eyes bore into him—steady, unflinching—made it clear this wasn’t some idle suspicion. She knew.
His jaw clenched. “Amelia, I don’t know what you think you saw—”
“I know what I saw,” she snapped, her voice sharp but low, trying not to wake Oliver, who was now dozing off in her arms. She gently laid him on the couch with his stuffed dinosaur. “I found it in your jacket pocket. Claire’s bracelet.”
Brad’s expression twisted, a brief flicker of panic crossing his face before he buried it beneath that cool, lawyer-like composure he wore too well. “You’re mistaken. It’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me,” she cut in, her voice cracking on the edge of fury. “I held it in my hand
