My gaze drifted to a jewelry drawer tucked in the corner. I pulled it open gently. In the most prominent spot, a butterfly necklace lay waiting.
I knew this design better than anyone. It was identical to the one I kept pressed against my chest every single day.
Beside it sat a yellowed slip of paper. I recognized the handwriting.
To the best big sister in the world, Cindy. Love, Ben.
Ben. Benedict Fox. Cindy. Cindy Pruitt.
This had been her house. Her beautiful house. And Benedict had let other women live here?
He truly didn't care about her at all. No wonder he'd never said a single word after she died.
"Pruitt family heiress and her con-artist husband defraud investors, destroying multiple families."
"Pruitt heiress caught on camera assaulting impoverished college student."
The comment sections back then had been vile beyond description. Three days after those headlines broke, I saw the news of Cindy's death.
All she left me was this one necklace.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
The black dress. It looked so much like the one Cindy had worn in those news clips.
I picked up the butterfly necklace and fastened it around my neck.
The stylist froze. "Ms. Summers, that's..."