Lori's lips quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill, but James' impatience was etched across his face. "I need to speak with Roger," he said sharply.
Rage simmered in Lori's chest, yet one look at James' thunderous expression—and the lingering unease from their earlier confrontation—made her swallow her pride. Jaw clenched, she turned to leave, though her gaze remained locked on him like a hawk fixated on its quarry.
When she'd gone, James pinned Roger with a razor-sharp glare. "That necklace—did you truly just find it?"
Roger let out a sharp laugh, flashing a stage magician's practiced grin. "Seems you've pieced it together. No mere coincidence—I'll wager you never expected me to palm it straight from Clara's bag? For the record, sleight of hand happens to be my specialty."
James'
