Chapter 2

I got dressed quickly, my mind racing.

The family was already gathering downstairs for breakfast. Loud voices, forced laughter.

Brenda spotted me. "Sarah, dear! You overslept! We were worried."

Her smile was too wide, her eyes scanning me.

My father, Robert, stood beside her, looking uncomfortable as always. He hated any kind of fuss.

Uncle Frank and Aunt Susan were there too, with their "golden boy" son, Michael. They were already talking about Michael' s promising law career.

I forced a small smile. "Morning, everyone. Just needed some extra sleep."

Brenda fussed, trying to steer me towards the buffet. "You need to eat, you're too thin."

I saw her glance towards the antique display cabinet in the corner of the dining room, the one with the silver locket. Her eyes lingered a moment too long.

The plan was already in motion in her head, I knew it.

Later, as people mingled, I saw Brenda sidle over to the cabinet. She thought no one was watching.

She carefully opened it, her fingers darting out to grab the locket.

Quickly, she looked around. I was standing near the doorway, pretending to check my phone. My tote bag was on a nearby chair. Robert' s briefcase was on the floor next to it. They were almost identical in color and material from a distance.

Brenda moved towards the bags.

This was my chance.

I "accidentally" bumped into a small table, making a glass wobble. "Oh, goodness!" I exclaimed, loud enough to draw a few eyes, including Brenda's for a split second.

In that brief distraction, I leaned down, as if to check the table, and swiftly swapped the positions of my tote and Robert's briefcase.

Brenda, flustered by my exclamation, didn't notice. She reached down, unzipped the bag she thought was mine, and slipped the locket inside.

She zipped it up, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

I waited.

It didn' t take long. The B&B owner, a stern woman named Mrs. Peterson, came into the room, her face grim.

"Excuse me, everyone," she announced. "A valuable display item, an antique silver locket, is missing from the cabinet."

A hush fell over the room.

Uncle Frank puffed up. "A theft? Here?"

Aunt Susan looked horrified.

Brenda put a hand to her chest. "Oh, my! How terrible!"

Mrs. Peterson' s eyes swept the room. "We will have to ask everyone to please check their belongings."

People started murmuring, looking at each other.

Brenda shot me a look, a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk. She thought I was about to be humiliated.

Then, Mrs. Peterson' s gaze landed on Robert, who was fumbling with his briefcase, trying to find his glasses. "Sir, if you wouldn't mind?"

Robert looked up, confused. "My briefcase? Of course."

He unzipped it. Reached inside.

And pulled out the small, antique silver locket.

His face went white, then a deep, blotchy red. "What... what is this? I've never seen this before!"

Brenda gasped, a theatrical sound. "Robert! How could you?"

Mrs. Peterson looked stern. "Indeed."

I stepped forward, my voice calm. "This is a terrible misunderstanding, I'm sure. Mrs. Peterson, do you perhaps have security cameras in this area? It might clear things up."

I remembered from my past life, they did. And they' d shown me taking it from my bag, after Brenda put it there.

Mrs. Peterson nodded. "Yes, we do. In the main areas."

Brenda suddenly looked nervous. "Oh, well, I'm sure it's just a mistake. Robert wouldn't..."

"Let's review the footage," I said, looking directly at my mother. "To clear Dad's name, of course."

Robert was sputtering, "I didn't! I swear!"

We all trooped to the small office. The footage was clear.

It showed Brenda taking the locket. It showed her walking towards the bags. It showed her slipping the locket into the bag that was, at that moment, Robert's briefcase.

The silence in the office was thick.

Robert stared at the screen, his face a mask of fury and disbelief. He turned slowly to Brenda.

"Brenda? What in God's name were you doing?"

Brenda started to cry. "I... I just thought it was pretty! I was going to... to show Sarah, I thought she might like it. I must have put it in the wrong bag by mistake! It was an accident!"

Her voice was high-pitched, full of her usual fake innocence.

"An accident?" Robert's voice was dangerously low. "You tried to make it look like Sarah stole it, didn't you? Just like you always twist things!"

This was new. He' d never confronted her like this before.

Uncle Frank and Aunt Susan looked shocked, then disgusted. The local blogger, who had materialized again, was scribbling furiously.

Brenda wailed, "No! I was only trying to help Sarah pick out a souvenir! You' re all twisting my words!"

Robert grabbed her arm. "We're leaving. Now." He looked utterly humiliated.

As they left, Brenda shot me a look of pure venom. I met her gaze, my expression neutral.

Round one to me.