I leaned in so close that Marcus had to tilt the phone back. I remembered the weight of that envelope in my hand, how carefully I’d passed it to her. For weeks I’d gone over that moment, trying to work out whether I’d missed something. Seeing it on his screen made me angry at myself for doubting it.
Ruth had come up from her table. Marcus showed her the photo, then held it out to Tessa.
She glanced at it. “Fine. You handed it to me for a minute. Then you took it back.”
“I did not.”
“You did, after that picture.” She looked at Ruth. “A photo can’t tell you what happened afterward.”
That was true, and I hated how quickly she found the gap. The picture showed her holding the envelope, not where it had gone next. Ruth looked from Tessa to me, and I could see she knew that too.
“If I took it back, why did you just say I never gave it to you?” I asked.
Tessa pressed her lips together. “I didn’t remember holding it.”
I looked around at the trays of food, the neat rows of plates. “Did those cards pay for any of this?”
“No,” Tessa said. “I paid for the catering myself, with my own money.”
“Then show us,” I said. “Show us how you paid.”
Marcus still had his phone in his hand. Tessa looked at him, and I waited for her answer. I wasn’t going to let her send me home with another promise.
“You don’t have to show him anything,” Tessa told Marcus.
Ruth was standing close enough to hear her. “I kept the serial numbers from the donation,” she said. “I can pull up the list.”
Tessa turned toward her. “Why would you need that?”
“Because I’d like to know what happened to the cards.” Ruth took out her phone and opened the pantry record. Marcus, still holding his own phone, stepped away from the microphone and brought up his company’s itemized catering record. Tessa followed us to the edge of the room, where the music had started again, quietly.
I stood between Ruth and Marcus while they compared the screens. Tessa’s name was on the order. The record listed gift cards redeemed against it, with the serial numbers and a note that the cards had been surrendered to the catering business.
Ruth moved her finger down her list as Marcus read the numbers. All twenty-four matched.
For a second I wanted to snatch the phone and hold it over my head. I’d spent $1,200 from my savings replacing those cards so the pantry’s clients wouldn’t go without. Even then, I’d been sent home from deliveries while Tessa kept her position.
But I looked at the record again. I wanted to be sure before I said anything else.
“Tessa ordered it,” I said. “And those are the pantry cards.”
“They’re the same numbers,” Ruth said. Her voice was flat. “Every one of them.”
Tessa put her hand on Marcus’s arm. “I can explain this, but not out here.”
He led us into an empty room off the reception hall and shut the door. There were folded chairs stacked against one wall. Tessa stayed beside the door, still holding her bouquet by its ribbon.
“The pantry let me use them,” she said. “I was going to put the money back.”
“No,” Ruth said. “The pantry never approved those cards for your wedding. They were donated for our clients.”
Tessa set the bouquet on a chair. She looked at me, not Ruth. “You made me sound like a liar when they went missing. You kept saying you’d handed them to me.”
