Apprentices don’t belong on red carpets.

Part 3: "The first thing Nina did was laugh. It was a small sound, but it cut through the backstage panic like glass. “Of course there’s another stone,” she said, lifting her chin at the monitor. “That’s the whole problem with this family. Always drama. Always hidden pieces.” But nobody was listening to her anymore. The camera feed had shifted, and now the whole room could see the velvet tray more clearly on the monitor. The second pink stone caught the light like a pulse. Bigger. Deeper in color. More expensive-looking than the one around Nina’s neck, and somehow far more unsettling because it had been sitting there in plain sight the whole time. The handwritten note under the silk lining made the old woman’s script look almost alive. Mr. Bellamy didn’t move. He just stared at the screen with a face I had never seen before, tight and pale, like the floor had tilted under him. “That note,” he said finally, almost to himself. “It shouldn’t be out.” Nina’s smile sharpened. “Then maybe someone left it where it could be found.” Her eyes flicked to me when she said it. The words landed exactly where she meant them to. A few people nearby looked over, and I felt the old familiar heat of suspicion start to gather around me. One of the press interns, still holding her phone, lowered it halfway as if she was suddenly unsure who the story was about. The guard at the rope line looked from Nina to me and back again, waiting for someone official to decide what this moment meant. Then Mr. Bellamy made the mistake of stepping toward the tray. Before he could reach it, a sharply dressed woman from event security moved in front of him and put a hand out. “Sir, you need to stay back.” He blinked at her. “That tray is part of the trust inventory.” “Not according to the event release we were given.” Nina turned fast. “What release?” The woman held up a tablet. “A correction came through five minutes ago. The necklace on your guest should have been the only pink stone presented tonight.” My stomach dropped. Should have been. Those three words were enough to make the whole room shift again. Nina heard it too, and for the first time since all this started, her confidence didn’t just crack. It disappeared. “What guest?” she snapped. “I am the face of this house.” The security woman looked at her without flinching. “Then you should know the inventory has been flagged.” “By who?” The answer came from behind us. “By me.” My head turned so fast it hurt. Standing near the makeup station was Elaine, my grandmother’s former assistant, the one who had retired three years ago and still wore her silver hair in the same neat twist every day. She had not been part of the gala crew. I had not even seen her come in. But in her hand was a thin black case, and her expression carried the kind of calm that only comes from someone who has already made peace with being blamed. Nina stared at her. “You?” Elaine nodded once. “I was asked to bring the backup documentation after the first necklace left the vault.” Mr. Bellamy closed his eyes briefly, as if he had been waiting for her to appear but not hoping for it. “You were supposed to wait until after the presentation,” he said. “And let this continue?” Elaine asked. “No.” Nina looked between them, and then her gaze locked onto the black case. “What is that?” Elaine lifted it just enough for the nearest camera to catch the brass initials on the corner. Not my grandmother’s name. Mine. My chest tightened. Inside that case, I knew without opening it, was something else I had never been told about. Elaine set it on a nearby counter and opened the latch. The room went silent again when she pulled out a folded stack of papers, a small velvet pouch, and a key sealed inside a plastic sleeve. The key was old-fashioned and heavy, the kind made for a hidden lock, not a drawer.