“Christopher Bennett.”
“That’s right.”
“No.”
I pointed toward his chest.
“I know who Christopher Bennett is. Everybody in Chicago does. Billionaire real-estate investor. Hotels. Construction. Finance. But Ryan had that locket before Christopher Bennett’s name ever appeared in a newspaper.”
His fingers curled around the pendant.
“Leave, Rachel.”
“What happened to my brother?”
His wheelchair suddenly moved backward.
“Get out!”
The shout brought Mrs. Alvarez running.
She stopped in the doorway.
“Christopher?”
He pointed toward me.
“Take her home.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked between us.
“What happened?”
“Now.”
I didn’t move.
“Rachel,” she said softly.
“Ask him about the necklace.”
Her expression changed.
That was all I needed to see.
She knew.
My stomach dropped.
“You know too.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked away.
“Oh my God.”
I backed toward the doorway.
“You both know.”
“Rachel,” she said.
“Don’t.”
I held up my hand.
“If you knew my brother, if you knew anything about what happened to him—”
