CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE – STRANGE BEHAVIOUR

Clara, engrossed in a book, looked up, a surprised smile lighting up her face. "Whoa, slow down there, Sherlock. What happened?" Scarlett explained about the jeweler's assessment of the brooch and then revealed the photograph. "This picture, Clara. It has to be connected somehow. Mom never mentioned these people, and it just feels…off." Clara's eyes widened as she examined the photograph. Recognition flickered across her face for a brief moment before morphing into confusion. "Wait a minute," Clara muttered, squinting at the picture. "I think I know one of these women." Scarlett's heart leaped into her throat. "Really? Who?" Clara tapped a finger on the image, pointing to a woman standing slightly behind Scarlett's mother. The woman had sharp features and a severe haircut, her expression unsmiling even amidst the apparent merriment of the group. "That's my Aunt Mildred," Clara said hesitantly. "But... she died years ago." A cold dread washed over Scarlett. The pieces of the puzz