I paced the length of my bedchamber, wringing my hands as panic clawed at my chest. The golden afternoon light streaming through the windows did nothing to brighten my mood.
"Where is it?" I muttered, yanking open another drawer and rifling through its contents. "It must be here somewhere!"
My search grew more frantic as I emptied boxes, scattering their contents across the floor. Isabella Beaumont—no, Isabella Thorne now—had demanded the return of her mother's possessions, and I couldn't find half of them. The wedding dress was missing, several pieces of jewelry had vanished years ago, and the letters...
I slumped onto my bed, my head pounding. If I couldn't produce these items, I'd have to pay their worth. Money we didn't have.
A knock at the door interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
"Mother?" Clara's voice called before she entered, looking radiant in a new pale blue gown. Her eyes widened at the chaos around me. "What happened in here?"
