Mrs. Higgins, through her tears, explained: “Grace was sleeping. I was in the kitchen. When I went to wake her for the festival, she was just… gone. The doctor said her heart just stopped. I don’t know how that necklace got there. I’ve never seen it before.”
A local jeweler who was part of the council looked at the piece. “This is custom work. There aren’t many of these around here.” Mrs. Higgins just kept repeating that Grace was a good girl, and that she didn’t know anything about it.
The next day, a formal hearing was held at the town hall. Everyone was there, including Mr. Sterling, though his son Grant was notably absent.
The townspeople were divided. “She was a poor girl. Maybe she stole it?” someone suggested. But others shot that down. “Grace wouldn’t steal a candy bar, let alone a gold chain. Someone put it there. But who? And why would they give something that expensive to a girl who lived like a hermit?”
As the arguments grew louder, Luke stood up. He had been thinking about everything he’d seen. “I think I know whose this is,” he said, his voice steady. “Give me until tomorrow morning to prove it.”
The next day, the town hall was packed. Mr. Sterling was there again, looking grim. Luke walked to the front of the room. “I know who this belongs to.” The room held its breath.
Luke continued, “Grace was exactly who we thought she was. She was a person of integrity. This necklace belongs to the man who caused her death—not by violence, but by fear. He tried to buy her, and when she said no, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Grace died because her heart couldn’t take the stress of being hunted in her own home. This necklace belongs to Grant Sterling.”
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