Chapter 99

Howard walked to the table where he had left the locked case. He opened it, took out the tanzanite, and held it under the light. The deep blue seemed to glow from within. He took a photo and opened his chat with Megan. "The tanzanite you liked," he typed. But then, he deleted it. Megan had wanted the tanzanite because if she had conceived in March, the baby would have been due in late December, and tanzanite would have been the birthstone. And then, it hit him. They had lost their baby. Memories from that night unspooled anyway. He remembered her smile, her kiss, the mole on her collarbone, the warmth of her skin, and the moment she pushed him away and told him to stop. He set the phone down, sank into the couch, and stared at the white ceiling. What was she doing now? The Internet was on fire. She must have seen it. Why had she stayed silent? Had she decided to lie low and let six months pass in peace, or was this just another way of sulking? Howard glanced at the phone ag