Tyler went pale.
“Mom…”
Before long, the police arrived. I explained everything, including Michael’s disappearance, the necklace, the birthmark, and Noah’s father’s name.
Noah wasn’t under arrest. He hadn’t done anything wrong. I was simply desperate for answers.
Then one of the officers asked Noah where his father was.
“At home,” Noah said.
My stomach dropped.
“Call him,” I whispered.
Noah took out his phone.
His father answered after three rings.
Even from several feet away, I recognized the voice.
Older.
Deeper.
But familiar.
Noah asked, “Dad, where did you get Grandpa’s necklace?”
There was a long silence.
Then Noah said, “I’m at Tyler’s house. His mom says she knows it.”
He gave his father my name.
“Diane.”
The silence on the other end lasted so long I thought the call had dropped.
Then I heard one word.
“Diane?”
My eyes filled with tears.
