Chapter 4 - Sophie Had Been Saying One Strange Thing
For nearly two months, Sophie had been repeating a sentence Isabella kept correcting.
“Aunt Diane makes things disappear.”
The first time Sophie said it, Isabella thought she meant magic tricks.
Diane occasionally entertained children at family parties by hiding coins beneath napkins or pretending jewelry vanished from one hand and appeared behind someone’s ear.
Then Sophie said something stranger.
“Preston knows where everything comes back.”
Isabella assumed the child was mixing games with the recent missing-object incidents.
Now she asked her again.
“What did you mean when you said Aunt Diane makes things disappear?”
Sophie sat cross-legged on the sofa.
“She takes them before people look.”
“Which things?”
“Pretty things.”
“From where?”
Sophie pointed vaguely.
“Rooms.”
Not enough.
Isabella kept her voice gentle.
“Did you see her?”
“Sometimes.”
“What happened?”
“Aunt Diane takes something. Then Preston says it’s missing. Then they find it.”
Isabella’s stomach tightened.
Not one brooch.
A routine.
“Where do they find it?”
Sophie shrugged.
“Places.”
“Your pocket?”
“Sometimes.”
“What other places?”
“Bags.”
“Whose?”
Sophie thought.
“Ladies.”
That word made Isabella pause.
Not children.
Ladies.
She called Claire back into the room.
“Have there been other theft accusations?”
Claire frowned.
“In the showroom?”
“No. Family events.”
Claire’s expression changed.
She remembered two.
A cousin’s pearl earrings disappeared from a dressing room during an engagement dinner. They were later found inside the handbag of the cousin’s sister-in-law.
The woman denied taking them.
The matter was quietly buried to avoid embarrassment.
Another time, an antique cigarette case belonging to a deceased relative vanished at a memorial reception.
It turned up inside a guest’s coat.
Again denial.
Again embarrassment.
Both incidents involved Diane.
Both were “resolved” by Preston.
Isabella felt the room tilt.
“How far back?”
Claire did not know.
So Isabella called the estate’s longtime house manager.
Then another relative.
Then another.
Stories emerged.
Not dozens.
Enough.
A bracelet found in a niece’s luggage.
A jeweled comb discovered in a girlfriend’s clutch.
A silver letter opener found in a houseguest’s coat.
Small family scandals people had forgotten because the items were recovered and nobody wanted public accusations.
Each target eventually attended fewer gatherings.
Some stopped coming entirely.
Isabella sat very still.
Sophie had not been the beginning.
She was the latest version.
And unlike the adults before her, she was young enough that Diane could turn the setup into a “game.”
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The question was no longer why they wanted Sophie branded a thief.
It was what had happened to the other people who were framed before her.
