Carolyn reached into the second bag and set a small velvet jewelry box on the table. I recognized it instantly. It was my grandmother’s pearl necklace, the one thing I had kept in a zippered pocket of my dusty-rose dress. Brian stared at the box as if it might burn him. “Where did you find that?” I whispered.
“In Jenna’s apartment,” Carolyn said quietly. “Beside a pawn shop receipt dated two weeks ago.” She slid a folded slip across the table. The pawn amount was nine hundred dollars, and the signature at the bottom was Brian’s. Then she unfastened the third bag. Inside lay a stack of unopened envelopes from our mortgage lender, all stamped FINAL NOTICE. Brian whispered, “Mom, please.” The kitchen went still.
