understand how she had found it, why she was wearing it, or why she had chosen our wedding day to reveal something that looked as though it belonged in a family mystery.
Behind us, someone coughed.
The officiant shifted his weight.
My best man leaned forward and whispered, “Mate, do you want me to do something?”
I barely heard him.
“Claire,” I said, my voice lower now, “what have you done?”
She reached for my hand.
“Before you get angry, please let me explain.”
That was when I noticed her
