Chapter 9
Claude’s hands trembled as he recalled the call from the police the day before, informing him of a severed finger wearing a wedding ring. The sight of his shaking hand holding the phone was unnerving.
Before he could explain himself, the officer on the line cut in, “Mr. Hart? I apologize, but the finger we found yesterday wasn’t Ms. Floyd’s. Another family has claimed it.”
Claude’s face, which had been ghostly pale, slowly started to regain some color.X
He sighed deeply, glancing at my portrait on his nightstand, muttering, “Claire, stop playing games.”
With a flick, he pressed down on the photo of us smiling happily, my arms around his neck.
Ready to go, he struggled with his tie, a task that used to be mine. I’d pick out his clothes, tie his tie, and he’d kiss my forehead, calling me his clever girl. But everything changed after Kate arrived! I was no longer his clever girl. I became the calculating one.
Claude didn’t go to work, nor did he wear his tie. Stepping out, he ran into Kate.
“Claude, why no tie today? Your assistant mentioned an important international case,” she said, pulling a silk scarf from her Hermes bag. “No tie today might be for the best. Foreigners tend to be more stylish. How about trying a scarf knot instead?”H
She stepped closer, but for the first time, Claude stepped back. “The perfume on the scarf smells nice. It suits you, but I pass.”
I remembered how Claude was particularly sensitive to perfume. When we were together, he bought me everything except perfume. Once,
I tried a fragrance Richard brought from abroad, and he threw it away. It was all about who the gesture was for. To Claude, Kate’s perfume was pleasant and fitting. For me, it warranted a scowl and a trash can.
“Claude, I’ll go with you to the law firm today and get to know everyone,” Kate suggested
Claude paused before getting into the car. “I’m not going to the law firm today. You should rest at home.”
With that, he drove away, leaving me to wonder where he was going. To my surprise, he went to the site of the accident that took me away. Police tape still cordoned off the area because Richard had re–reported my disappearance, prompting detectives to search again. Was Claude starting to believe I was truly gone?
“Mr. Hart, you’re here, too? Detective Ronald Collins greeted him. They’d spoken on the phone several times.
Collins explained they were following up on Claire’s missing, reported 72 hours ago. He asked Claude if he had found any clues. Claude inquired about my shoe’s location, leaming they found it near the burnt house, but the severed finger wasn’t mine
As he searched the ruins wearing gloves, I wondered if he was looking for the gem bracelet my parents gave me, a token I never removed. Despite the high temperatures, the quality gem wouldn’t burn. At worst, it would degrade. But the bracelet was missing, likely stolen by my kidnappers.
Back home, Claude frantically searched for the bracelet among my jewelry, a futile effort.
Kate approached. “Claude, what are you looking for?”
Claude spoke calmly, “Claire Floyd had a bracelet, a keepsake from her parents. I went to check the bumed house and the ruins today, but didn’t find the bracelet
Kate seemed briefly panicked, but quickly regained her composure. “You went to the ruins to see if the bracelet was there, figuring if it was, something bad might have happened to Claire? Not finding it is actually good news, Claude.
Claude paused, nodding slightly. “Yes, it’s good.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I let out a sarcastic laugh.||
“Claude, everything in this house belonged to Claire, and I was thinking…”
Before Kate could finish, Claude, clearly annoyed, interrupted her, “Just throw it all out if you don’t like it.
I felt as though my heart was being pierced by thousands of arrows, my soul shaking.
They hadn’t even confirmed if I was dead, and they were already discussing throwing out my stuff.
Claude truly despised me.“!
After a long search, Claudette found the divorce papers in a corner. I hadn’t signed them. He slammed them heavily on the ground.
He dialed a number and barked an order, “Find Claire Floyd, dead or alive!”
As for that, I could only think, “You’ve already seen my dead body.”
