Chapter 5

"Chloe, there's something I want to talk to you about."

On Friday night, Carter came out of the shower, his wet hair messy as he sat on the sofa. He spoke slower than usual, as if he were carefully rehearsing every word.

I set down my mug.

He said, "I have a childhood friend named Audrey. She's in a bit of a mess recently—she got pregnant, but the guy walked out on her.

She's all alone now with nowhere to stay. I was thinking of letting her crash at my old studio apartment for a while, the small one near my office."

He looked at me, his eyes clear, honest, and filled with a gentle plea.

"Don't worry, there's nothing going on between us. I'm just trying to be a good friend."

If I didn't know the truth, I would have said, "Of course, go ahead and help her."

I almost did.

Instead, I smiled. "Sure, go ahead. Is there anything I can do to help?"

He visibly relaxed and chuckled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. "No need. Just don't overthink it, okay?"

On Sunday, I "casually" suggested going over to his studio apartment to help clean up.

"Since your friend is moving in, after all."

He hesitated for a second. "No need, I already cleaned it."

"You're a guy, you probably missed some spots. Let me help you wipe down the windows."

He couldn't find a way to refuse, so he agreed.

When we got to the studio apartment, he had arrived thirty minutes ahead of me. The moment I walked in, I smelled three distinct scents: air freshener, laundry detergent, and a very faint trace of baby powder.

The first two were meant to cover up the third. But the third had leaked through.

I helped him wipe down the windows in the living room. As I bent down, my fingers brushed against the gap between the radiator and the wall.

My fingertips touched something hard.

I pulled it out.

It was a diamond clip-on earring.

I froze for three seconds.

Last Wednesday, Carter had come over to my place. Before leaving, he said, "I put your jewelry box back in the cabinet.

I accidentally knocked it over earlier." I had checked it then—both earrings were there. But I had only glanced at them; I didn't count them.

I pulled out my phone and checked a photo of my jewelry box. Only one earring remained.

He had stolen my Nana's earring.

I clutched the earring and walked into the bedroom. Carter was folding clothes.

Seeing the expression on my face, he asked, "What's wrong?"

I opened my hand. The earring lay in the center of my palm, the diamond catching the light.

"Care to explain this?"

His expression went through three distinct phases: blankness, calculation, and then a practiced smile.

"Oh, that? Audrey saw you wearing them once and thought they were beautiful. I told her I'd help her find a similar pair, so I borrowed one to show her the design.

I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind."

"Where is the other one then? Get it back for me."

"It's with her. I'll get it tomorrow."

"Now."

He was caught off guard. "She's not home today—"

"Not home? I thought you said she hadn't moved in yet."

He pressed his lips together, remaining silent for two seconds.

"...I meant she hasn't fully moved in. She just brought some of her things over first."

I didn't press further. I walked out to the balcony and pulled back the drying sheets hanging on the rack—there were indentations of two pillows, one large and one small.

I opened the washing machine. Inside was a men's t-shirt and a maternity dress, tangled together.

Carter stood at the balcony door, his composure finally crumbling.

"Chloe, listen to me."

I didn't listen. I walked to the front door and started putting on my shoes.

He rushed over and grabbed my wrist.

I turned to look at him.

"Carter, do you have any idea how much those earrings mean to me?"

He opened his mouth.

But no words came out.

He had taken my most precious possession, and yet he didn't feel a shred of guilt.

I wrenched my wrist free and pulled open the door.

The hallway lights were motion-activated. My footsteps turned on the bulbs one by one—illuminating each flight of stairs, then fading to black behind me.

His voice echoed from above, growing more distant: "Chloe, it's not what you think—Chloe—"

I reached the lobby.

A taxi pulled up in front of the building, and a woman stepped out of the back seat.

She had a round pregnant belly, a floral dress, a pale face, and dry lips. She was holding a bag of fruit and a bag of baby clothes.

She saw me and froze.

"Are you... Chloe?"

I didn't move.

She looked down at her own left hand—a ring was on her ring finger. It was an antique diamond ring set in silver.

I recognized that diamond.

It was part of the set that went with Nana’s earrings. The earrings were passed down to me, and the ring was given to my mom. My mom told me last year that she had lost the ring.

Audrey's voice was barely a whisper. "This... Carter gave this to me. He said it was an old family heirloom."

The two of us stood under the dim streetlights of the apartment complex, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity.

She was the first to cry. It wasn't the dramatic cry of a villain—it was the quiet, shoulder-shaking sob of a woman six months pregnant who had suddenly realized the truth. Her lips turned white as she bit down on them.

I didn't cry.

I walked over, pulled the earring from my pocket, and placed it on the concrete pillar next to the streetlamp, right beside her ring.

"He told you this was a family heirloom?"

"It belonged to my Nana. She passed away last year."

Carter ran down from the stairs.

The moment he saw the two of us standing together—he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mask of perfect expressions shattered completely for the first time.