The decision the following morning to visit the beach had been a last-minute one. After a sleepless night of thinking about this disastrous turn of events, obsessing about it from every angle, Celeste felt more compassion for Paulina. Her youngest sister wasn’t malicious, but she was spoiled and naïve. There was no scenario in which this was going to go well.

She didn’t want Paulina to leave on a bad note and suggested a quick walk on Race Point Beach as long as they discussed anything but Elodie. The walk had been innocent. But it came back to bite all three of them. Badly.

Celeste, consumed with the memory, zoned out and missed the sunset. The beach erupted in applause as it always did for nature’s light show. Jack leaned over and kissed her.

“Another day in paradise,” he said.

Yes. It was their paradise. And she intended to keep it that way.

36

Gemma recognized the New York Times reporter, but couldn’t place where she’d seen her before. Regan O’Rourke was in her fifties, with sleek orange-red hair, pale brows, and no makeup except for lipstick in an ill-advised shade of coral. She wore a navy linen dress that buttoned up the front and small gold hoop earrings. She arrived at Celeste’s house at precisely the agreed-upon time.

“The camera crew will come on a separate day,” Regan told her in advance. It took some of the pressure off, but Gemma still dressed carefully in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wanted to let her jewelry take center stage, and wore two necklaces, one short chain and one long, both gold-plated, with charms, including a vintage “Y” cutout subway token, a Casterbridge letter “G,” a gold-plated key to Gramercy Park, and a purple Met admissions button she set in a bezel. She wore citrine and aquamarine rings from Rock Candy stacked on her right forefinger.

They sat across from each other at the picnic table in Celeste’s backyard. Kate Bush music emanated from a neighbor’s house. The sun was bright overhead, so Gemma put up the table umbrella. Across the lawn, a baby bunny lifted its head from the grass.

Regan put her phone on the table. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

Gemma realized where she’d seen her before: the Pavlin & Co party last month.

“Sure,” she said, shifting uneasily.

“So tell me about your work. What makes you different from other designers? What’s your brand?”

Gemma took a breath. “My brand, GEMMA, is about personalization and sustainability. Everything is designed to be personal to the wearer. That’s also why I want my work to be affordable. My first collection, Rock Candy, was inspired by birthstones. I created a high-end version and lower price-point versions in colored glass and base metals.” She held out her hand with the citrine.