He Declared Me Dead on Tuesday, So I Walked Into Court on Friday novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: The Gold Cuff Was Never Hers

On Tuesday morning, Camille unlocks the courthouse archive room with the silver-striped card while Adrian lays the identification photographs beside the monitor.

"Explain the bracelet first, Lena."

The card leaves a pale rectangle in Camille's hand when she lowers it.

She looks pleased with the room, the equipment, and the fact that I am standing inside it.

The courthouse archive seal is stamped across the bottom edge.

I look at the photographs instead.

The first shows a dead stranger on a stainless-steel table.

The second shows a wide gold cuff on her wrist, the small engraved L turned toward the camera.

The third is a handwritten inventory clipped beneath the image.

Adrian taps the last page with his black pen.

"You identified the bracelet as belonging to me," I say.

"I identified the person wearing it as my wife."

"After being warned that the medical records raised a problem."

"We are not here to retry every procedural disagreement."

Camille moves toward the monitor.

"Nobody is trying to attack you. We need the record to be clear. Adrian thought the photograph would help you understand what the court received."

She stands beside the photograph that erased me and smiles.

The room contains two archive tables, one monitor, and a wall cabinet with a keypad.

No clerk waits inside.

Adrian arranged that part carefully.

He points to the image.

"You can see why I believed it was yours."

"Yes."

Camille's smile pauses.

"You agree?"

"I agree that the bracelet is mine."

Adrian leans back.

"Then we are making progress."

"It came from my jewelry box."

"You told the court that already."

"I have told the court that you took it."

His fingers stop on the photograph.

Camille fills the silence before it can settle.

"Lena, you had been missing. Adrian was grieving and trying to manage a company that suddenly had no founder. People make decisions under terrible pressure."

"You attended my memorial in a cream dress and brought a camera crew from the event vendor."

Her face remains arranged for concern.

"That footage was private," she says.

"It was recorded under a release you signed for my company gala."

Adrian's gaze cuts to her.

Camille turns toward him.

"You said the recording was handled."

"It was."

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