He looked tired, but his eyes were steady.

“Matteo,” I said. “Tell them.”

Matteo stepped forward, his voice quiet but clear.

“The Celestia gown was commissioned by Clara Bennett,” Matteo said.

“She knew her illness was progressing quickly.”

“She asked me to sew a hidden lining into the bodice.”

Harrison took a step toward Matteo, his fists clenched.

“Get this man out of here,” Harrison shouted to the security guards.

None of the guards moved.

They stood near the exit doors, looking at Grace, who was holding her phone up.

“I have the federal authorities on the line, gentlemen,” Grace said to the guards.

“I suggest you do not interfere with federal evidence.”

The room remained completely still.

I walked over to Sloane.

She looked terrified, her hands trembling against the silk of the skirt.

“May I?” I asked, pointing to the delicate lace collar of the dress.

She did not move.

I reached out and felt the seam near the left collarbone.

My fingers found the tiny, hidden zipper that Matteo had described to me.

With a gentle pull, the seam opened.