Mrs. Sterling raised an eyebrow, looking uncomfortable.

Claire’s frantic eyes scanned the immediate area, searching the ground, the chairs, and the nearby bushes.

Then, her gaze locked onto me.

I was standing ten feet away, watching them.

Claire’s panic turned to pure, venomous rage.

She pointed a trembling finger at me.

“You,” she shrieked. “You took it!”

The sea breeze carried the scent of roasted garlic and saltwater across the terrace.

Every head at the neighboring tables turned toward us.

Mrs. Sterling lowered her fork, her polished silver bracelet clinking against the edge of her plate.

“What did you say, Claire?” Vivian asked, her voice sharp as a razor.

“She took it!” Claire pointed her French-manicuried nail directly at my face.

“She was just standing right behind my chair a minute ago.”

Daniel stepped forward, his leather shoes clicking against the stone tiles.

“Maya, don’t do this here,” he whispered, his face flushing a deep, embarrassed red.

“If you’re throwing a tantrum because of our argument earlier, just hand it over.”

I stood perfectly still, my hands resting at my sides.