The Missing Ring

(append: ?sidebar)[ ''The Missing Ring'' an interactive mystery by (link-repeat:"Felicity Drake")[(open-URL:"http://www.felicitydrake.com")] \  (set: $randomimage to (either: "GMsRPJc", "p4CvWLb", "6KJ5nUj", "jqC8dIa", "MozMtFE", "ITV7n9Z", "adeaWDB", "6K7D1uG")) \(print: '<img src="https://i.imgur.com/' + $randomimage + '.png" height="36" width="36">') (if: (passage:)'s tags contains "donotshowheader")[]\ (else:)[\ (if: (passage:)'s name is "Inventory")[]\ (else:)[ [[Inventory]]] (if: (passage:)'s name is "About")[]\ (else:)[ [[About]]] \ {(link:"Save")[ (if:(save-game:"Slot A"))[Game saved!] (else:)[Save error]]} \ \(if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot A")[(link: " Load")[(load-game:"Slot A")]] (if: not ( (passage:)'s name is "Start" ))[(link-repeat:"Restart")[(set: $restart to (confirm: "Are you sure you want to restart?"))(if: $restart is true)[(reload:)]]] ]]

##Inventory (if: $inv's length > 0)[You are carrying: (for: each _item, ...$inv) [* _item]]\ (else:)[You aren't carrying anything. ] { (click:"your phone")[(replace:"your phone")[Your new iPhone.(if: $phonerecord >= 2)[ Your phone has a recording of a conversation between Dad and Gran. You can listen to it, but you'd better wait until you're somewhere private.]]] (click:"slippers")[(replace:"slippers")[Fuzzy reindeer slippers. Undignified but soft.]] (click:"three sets of boots")[(replace:"three sets of boots")[Your dad's winter hiking boots (big). Your mom's winter hiking boots (small). Aunt Emily's fur-lined snowboots (fancy).]] (click:"Irene's boots")[(replace:"Irene's boots")[Irene's boots. You've... borrowed them.]] (click:"Gran's boots")[(replace:"Gran's boots")[Gran's L.L. Bean boots. They don't look as if they've been worn outside in the snow and salt.]] (click:"vest")[(replace:"vest")[A puffy orange insulated vest. Your Christmas gift from Gran. Super cozy. You might not ever wear it in public, though.]] (click:"Aunt Emily's sweater")[(replace:"Aunt Emily's sweater")[Aunt Emily's cardigan. Faux fur trimmed, excessively fashionable. There are weird pompoms on the cuffs. Aunt Emily's phone is in the pocket. You can snoop, but you'd better find somewhere private first.]] (click:"safe combination")[(replace:"safe combination")[The six-digit combination to the safe in Gran's closet, written on an index card.]] }(link-goto: "back", (history:)'s last)

It's almost midnight, and you're in |bed>[bed] with a dog-eared Agatha Christie novel in a guest room at your grandmother's house.(click: ?bed)[ The blankets smell like mothballs. They've probably been tucked away in a closet since last Christmas; these days, Gran doesn't entertain as often as she used to.] You and your dad have this (link:"dumb")[awesome] Christmas tradition where you try to catch him eating Santa's cookies at midnight. Once, when you were six, you snuck downstairs and caught Dad in his pajamas snarfing down a whole plate of the chocolate chip cookies you two had made together. That was how you learned Santa Claus wasn't real. Ever since then, it's been an inside joke between the two of you. Now you're fifteen, and you wanted to tell dad that you're(link:" too old for this")[(link:" ''way'' too old for this")[, like, maybe ten years too old for this]], but you didn't want to disappoint him. Plus it's nice to get a chance to hang out together and eat cookies, just the two of you, with no awful relatives. You can [[get out of bed]].

You're in Gran's pink guest bedroom.(click:"pink")[ Gran lives in this big old (link:"mansion")[house (she hates it when you call it a mansion)] in Vermont. There are half a dozen bedrooms, but this one is distinguished by its extreme pinkness. It was Aunt Emily's room back in the day, and you kind of think someone ought to repaint it.](if: not ($inv contains "your phone"))[ (link:"Your phone is on the bedside table.")[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "your phone")) You pick up your phone and slip it into your pocket. You just got an iPhone from your parents for Chanukah, and you never let it out of your sight.]] You can [[leave the bedroom|Upstairs Hallway1]].

You're in the upstairs hallway. It's dark! (if: $inv contains "your phone")[You use your phone screen to dimly illuminate the hall. The [[bathroom|Bathroom1]] is down the hall. You can go downstairs to the [[foyer|Downstairs1]].]\ \ \(else:)[Gran knows the old house so well that she doesn't need a nightlight, but you're liable to (link:"stub your toe")[(link:"break your neck")[wake up the whole house by crashing into something]]. You'd better find a light somewhere. You can go [[back to your bedroom|get out of bed]].]

Next to the sink are a bowl of decorative soaps shaped like seashells and a pile of (link-reveal:"fancy handtowels.")[ They're embroidered with an L, for "Lawson." You have never actually used them to dry your hands, not once in your life.] Above the sink is a huge gilt-framed mirror.(click:"mirror")[ You look at yourself in the mirror. You're wearing flannel pajamas with ice-skating polar bears on them. Wearing matching pajamas for the whole family is another one of dad's Christmas traditions. It's not very dignified, but at least you're warm.] You can go [[back to the hallway|Upstairs Hallway1]].

You tiptoe down the stairs into the foyer.(if: not($inv contains "slippers"))[ The slate floor of the foyer is like ice under your bare feet.] To the left, you see the faint glow of the Christmas tree in the [[parlor|parlor1]].(if: (history:) contains "parlor1")[ That's weird—you can hear voices. To the right, through the dining room, there are lights on in the [[kitchen|kitchen1]].]

The massive Christmas tree takes up nearly half the room; the star at the top brushes the ceiling. Gran has a (link-reveal:"story for every ornament")[: this crocheted snowflake by Great-Great Grandma Lawson, this blown-glass nutcracker a present from Grandpa, this clay footprint from when Dad was a baby]. With eight people in the house, there's an excuse for a mountain of presents under the tree. It's obvious which ones were wrapped by (link-reveal:"Gran")[: a dozen different kinds of Christmas-themed wrapping paper, and hand-tied bows in thick satin ribbon]. And by (link-reveal:"you and your mom and dad")[: appropriately secular snowflake paper, so you can use it for both Christmas and Chanukah. Also slightly lumpy]. And it's obvious which ones are from (link-reveal:"Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick")[: envelopes, and not the fun kind]. There is a platter of chocolate chip cookies sitting in front of the cold fireplace. No sign of Dad, though. You can go back to the [[foyer|Downstairs1]].

The voices in the kitchen belong to Dad and Gran. Gran is never up so late. She's normally religious about being in bed by nine. You could go in and say hi. But there's a certain tone in your dad's whispered voice, something tense and urgent, that makes you want to (link-reveal:"eavesdrop.")[ You peek around the doorjamb and into the kitchen. Gran and Dad are sitting at the kitchen counter, talking with their heads close together. "We can retrace your steps from today," Dad says. "Check all the rooms you visited, see if you left it somewhere." "Don't you think I already tried that?" Gran replies. "It's gone, Jack. The ring is just gone." There's only one ring in the Lawson family that anyone could call (link-reveal:"''the ring''")[. Gran wears her engagement ring exactly twice a year, for her birthday and Christmas. She says it's too fancy to wear all the time, but she doesn't want it to just sit in a box. It's a lot of ring. Like a *lot*. It's a Lawson family heirloom, apparently, from back in the day when the family had serious money. You don't know enough about diamonds to say exactly what cut or carat weight the stones are, but Gran let you try it on last year, and you were surprised by how heavy it felt on your hand]. "We've got to tell everyone, so they can help look for it," Dad declares. "A thing like that shouldn't just go *missing*—" Then your grandmother starts to (link-reveal:"cry")[. You've never seen her cry before. She's not the soft and sentimental kind of grandmother. She does calisthenics every morning and mowed her own lawn until she turned seventy-five and didn't let anyone see her cry at Grandpa's funeral. It's horrible to hear her crying. It makes your heart crumble like feta cheese]. "Don't panic, Mom. We'll take care of this, all right? We'll look for it." Your dad is reassuring her, using the same tone of voice he uses with you. It seems to work; you see her dabbing her eyes with her sleeve and sitting up straight. You hear your dad's chair scrape on the tile floor. He's about to get up. You could go in and [[talk to them]]. Or you could just go [[back to bed]].]

You tuck yourself back into bed in the pink guest room. That sounds really bad. How could Gran just lose a massive diamond ring? She's turning eighty this year (she's already planning a birthday bash for the summer), but she's never seemed like she was getting forgetful. Mom, who's like half Gran's age, is always losing her glasses and forgetting her passwords. She's a little scatter-brained, and sometimes you are too. But Gran has the keen eyes and sharp mind of a warlord. She plans her spring cleaning with a five-page spreadsheet; she starts baking and buying for Christmas months ahead. You've never heard of her losing or forgetting anything. And you know for a fact that she's careful about the ring. She wears it only twice a year, and otherwise she keeps it in (link:"a safe")[a big metal safe built into her bedroom closet, with a serious-looking combination lock on the front]. You know that because last year, when she let you try it on, she took you into her bedroom and unlocked the safe in front of you. She's meticulous. How could she keep the ring carefully locked up in a safe for decades, and then just lose it? Either Gran's mind is starting to go—which is scary and horrible—or she's wrong. If there's anything you've learned from all those Agatha Christie novels you've been reading over winter break, it's that super-valuable heirlooms don't just go missing. [[They get stolen.|tomorrow morning]]

Christmas morning at Gran's house is 50% Norman Rockwell, 50% nightmare. At nine on the dot, breakfast is served in the dining room. Irene, Gran's housekeeper, serves French toast with real Vermont maple syrup and coffee and hot cocoa and chocolate shavings and homemade whipped cream; Gran has decorated the dining room table with her red tablecloth and special Christmas china and sprigs of holly. Meanwhile, Aunt Emily is standing in the foyer, screaming up two flights of stairs to the attic: "''Cody!'' Get down here! Everyone else is waiting on you!" And Uncle Rick is loudly saying grace *at* Mom, who stares right at him while she dips her French toast in syrup and chews. Christmas with the family would be awesome except for (link-reveal:"the whole *family* part")[. No, that's not fair. Your mom and dad are mostly good. Gran's lovely. It's pretty much just the aunt-uncle-cousin situation that's not ideal]. You help yourself to French toast and hot cocoa and a ton of whipped cream on top of everything and sit down next to Mom. Cody arrives a few minutes later: greasy hair, greasy face, perpetual frown, t-shirt that clearly spent the night on the floor. He's the only person you've ever seen make teen rebellion look *un*cool. "There's something I want to mention, while everybody's together," (link-reveal:"Dad begins.")[ "Gran's ring went (link-reveal:"missing")[(show:?missing)] last night. If everyone can help look for it, that would be great." |missing)[You realize that he said missing, not lost. Dad's an English teacher, and he likes to be precise about how he says things. (He corrects you literally every time you use the word 'literally' when you actually mean 'figuratively.') Does he also suspect that the ring was stolen? ]"What?" Aunt Emily cries, an octave too high. "*The* ring, the engagement ring? Mom, you didn't tell me!" "I only realized late last night," Gran says. "I've just misplaced it; I'm sure it'll turn up." "*Misplaced* it?" Aunt Emily's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "That thing's got to be worth at least a hundred thousand dollars. When did you see it last? Where have you looked?" "Oh, sweetheart, I don't remember," Gran sighs. "I've tried to remember, and I've looked everywhere, but..." "How do you know it wasn't stolen?" Aunt Emily demands. An awful hush falls over the breakfast table. The only sound is Cody's fork scraping noisily over Gran's Christmas china. There—now it's been said out loud, and it can't be unsaid. You're just glad it wasn't by you. You look around the breakfast table at your family, and you realize that they're also the only suspects. Gran wore her ring at dinner last night; you saw that with your own eyes. And by midnight it was missing. Gran's house is in the middle of the Vermont woods, remote enough that you're pretty sure you would have heard a car driving up the gravel driveway, or seen the headlights. No one other than these eight people were in the house: (link-reveal:"Gran")[: with her best Nordic sweater and her hair all done up for Christmas morning, looking about as embarrassed as you've ever seen her. Obviously she didn't steal her own ring]. (link-reveal:"Dad")[: perpetually rumpled, blinking like an owl over his coffee, and frowning in a way that makes you instinctively feel like you're in big trouble]. (link-reveal:"Mom")[: wearing a Star of David, which she only wears when she's going to see Uncle Rick, because it makes him uncomfortable, and watching the proceedings with her lawyer face on]. (link-reveal:"Aunt Emily")[: heavily shellacked with a full face of makeup, her phone surgically attached to her hand as always, and probably about to flip out gloriously]. (link-reveal:"Uncle Rick")[: a red-faced, puffy toad, storing up air for a big croak]. (link-reveal:"Cody")[: the human embodiment of a pout. Even this high-quality family drama hasn't interested him; his attention is fully on his French toast]. (link-reveal:"Irene")[: Gran's housekeeper, in her usual uniform of neat black slacks and turtleneck, currently attempting to disappear into the kitchen without being noticed]. (link-reveal:"And you")[: Sadie Goldberg-Lawson, age fifteen, perfectly normal (relatively speaking). You didn't steal the ring, but no one else knows that for sure. To them, you're just as much of a suspect as they are to you]. If the ring *was* stolen, it was by one of these eight people. And if that's what happened, your family is going to explode spectacularly. No wonder Gran looks so pale. Aunt Emily raises her chin and announces, "So no one else is going to say it? We need to call the police, and they need to search Irene's room." "*Emily*, that's—" your dad begins. "That's an obscene and racist thing to say," your mom finishes for him. Maybe Mom's right, and Aunt Emily's accusing Irene because she's Filipina, but that's probably not the way Dad was going to end that sentence. "I didn't—of course I didn't, Mrs. Lawson," Irene stammers. "You know I would never—" "Enough!" Gran announces, standing and slamming her palm down on the table, making the plates clatter. "We are *not* doing this. Not on Christmas morning, not ever. (link-reveal:"Irene is part of the family")[(show:?irene)], and it's ridiculous to suspect her of anything." |irene)[Irene has been living with Gran for five years now, ever since Grandpa died. You only see her a couple of times a year, and she doesn't talk to you much, but she sees Gran pretty much all day every day. It's a little sad, but in a way Irene is more family to Gran than any of you are. It's not surprising that Gran would defend her. ]Gran sits back down and grips her mug of coffee, fixing everyone at the table with a (link-reveal:"ferocious")[(show:?ferocious)] scowl.|ferocious)[ For the first time, you understand all those stories your dad tells about how he and Aunt Emily were terrified of Gran when they were little.] "I know that none of you took the ring; there's nothing in the world that could make me believe that. I want all of you to forget the whole thing. We're not tearing the family apart over an *object*." "We can't just *ignore* it, Mom," Aunt Emily persists. "If we wait for it to just *turn up* again, then—then (link-reveal:"*whoever*")[(show:?whoever)] stole it will have time to hide it or sell it. We ought to get the police here right away, before the ring is gone for good." |whoever)[(By *whoever,* she means Irene. It's as clear as if she said her name. But whatever.)] "Maybe you're right," Dad begins, in a tone of voice that means he does not at all think she's right. "But we don't have to spoil Christmas morning for Mom and the kids, do we? Look, we're all planning on staying until the 30th, so there's no hurry. Even if someone *did* steal it, the ring isn't leaving the house. Let the police enjoy their Christmas, and if it doesn't turn up, then we can revisit this." "No hurry?" Aunt Emily snaps. "And if the ring never turns up again, are *you* going to repay its value to the (link-reveal:"estate")[(show:?estate)], Jack?"|estate)[ It's not very nice to talk about someone's *estate* before they're dead. Gran stares stony-faced down at her plate.] "''Emily''," Uncle Rick rumbles, and she falls silent, her cheeks puffed full of air in a silent retort. "We'll wait until tomorrow, then," Dad announces calmly, and Uncle Rick nods. (Mom rolls her eyes. You can practically *hear* her thinking: 'oh, good, the men have decided everything.' The only thing Mom likes less than Aunt Emily is the way Uncle Rick bosses her around.) "Now, can we have a nice Christmas morning together?" Gran asks, her voice wavering, [[and the topic drops.|opening presents]]]

The dishes from breakfast have been tidied up, but the dining room table is still festive and be-hollied. One of Grandpa's paintings hangs above the sideboard, a painting of your dad and Aunt Emily as kids. It's pretty cute: your dad has scraped knees and huge glasses, and Aunt Emily is a toddler with chubby cheeks and ringlets. As adults, they have both begged Gran to relocate this painting, to no avail. You can go to the [[foyer]]. There's a door leading to the [[kitchen]].

(if: (history:)'s last is "opening presents")[(set: $phonenotes to 1)Now that everyone has scattered through the house, you are alone in the foyer. ]The foyer is cold and a little imposing, dominated by a massive painted portrait of (link-reveal:"William Lawson Senior")[, your great-grandfather. He scowls masterfully down at you. When you were a kid, you were frightened of this painting—and maybe you still are, just a little. William Lawson Senior was Grandpa's father, the one who owned the quarry. He died long before you were born. Dad isn't William Lawson the Third, fortunately, because Grandpa decided not to pass on the name. He always said he wanted his son to be able to choose his own path in life. Grandpa painted the portrait himself, and it's always struck you as a little strange that his portrait of his own father is so stern, not loving at all]. Gran and Irene have done their best to warm up the room in spite of the painting: there are thick rugs on the slate tile floor, Christmas lights strung around the windows, and potted poinsettia everywhere. There's a (link-reveal:"coat closet")[(show:?closet)] here.|closet)[ Everyone's coats are stuffed inside(if: not ($inv contains "three sets of boots"))[, and there are a bunch of boots on the floor. You recognize your Mom and Dad's matching winter hiking boots. The fashionable fur-trimmed snow boots must belong to Aunt Emily; they match her red woolen peacoat].\ \ \(if: ((history:) contains "outside") and (not ($inv contains "three sets of boots") and (not ($ireneflag > 0) )))[ (link:"You can take the boots to compare them with the footprints.")[You take all three sets of boots. Hopefully no one will mind.(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "three sets of boots"))]]\ (else-if: $inv contains "three sets of boots")[ (link:"You can put back all the boots from the closet.")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "three sets of boots"))You replace all the boots where you found them.]]] There is a heavy wooden door leading [[outside]]. To the right is the [[dining room]]. To the left is the [[parlor]]. There is a small door beneath the stairs leading to the [[back hallway]]. A grand staircase, dripping with garlands of pine and holly, leads [[upstairs]].

The Christmas tree twinkles in the corner, and Bing Crosby warbles sweetly from Gran's record player. A fire is crackling cheerfully in the fireplace, and the carpet beneath the tree is littered with empty boxes and torn wrapping paper.(if: ((history:)'s last is "Talk to Dad?") )[ Gran returns to the parlor and sits back down on the couch next to Dad.](else-if: ((history:)'s last is "Talk to Gran?") )[ Dad returns from the foyer, sits down on the couch next to Gran, and smiles at you.](else-if: ((history:)'s last is "foyer") )[ Dad and Gran are sitting on the couch together, eating cookies and drinking tea, respectively. As soon as you enter the room, they stop talking.(if: ($dadflag is 0))[ Real subtle.](else-if: ($dadflag > 1))[ At least now you know why.](else-if: ($phonerecord is 0) and ($dadflag is 1))[ Every time! (link-reveal: "It's beginning to make you suspect that they're discussing something secret.")[ Is this what your father is hiding? Under normal circumstances, you'd want to respect their privacy, but right now you can't let any secrets go un-snooped on. That's the awesome and terrible responsibility of a detective. (link-reveal:"You'd better find out what they're talking about.")[ You set your phone to record and leave it on the side table next to Dad and Gran, hidden beneath the edge of the platter of cookies. This isn't right, you know, but it's for a good cause. You can come back later to pick it up.(if: $phonerecord is 0)[(set: $phonerecord to 1)](if: $inv contains "your phone")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "your phone"))]]]]] On the side table next to Dad is a platter of Christmas cookies, including the chocolate chip cookies you made and an assortment of Irene's masterpieces. (link:"You can take one if you want.")[Yum! (either:"A chocolate chip cookie","A sugar cookie","A gingerbread cookie","A rum ball","Shortbread","A Russian tea cake","A snickerdoodle")!]\ \ \(if: ($phonerecord is 1) and ((history:)'s last is "foyer") )[ (link:"Your phone is on the side table.")[You remove your phone from its hiding place and pocket it. You'll have to listen to the recording somewhere private.(if: $phonerecord < 2)[(set: $phonerecord to 2)](if: not ($inv contains "your phone"))[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "your phone"))]]] [[Talk to Dad?]] [[Talk to Gran?]] You can return to the [[foyer]].

The snow is thick on the steps outside the front door. No one's been in or out of the house in a couple of days, so the snow should be undisturbed, but there are distinct footprints outside the door—leading away from the house and down the driveway. (if: $ireneflag is 0)[(link-reveal:"Uh-oh.")[ You had assumed no one left the house, so the ring had to still be inside. But these footprints tell a different story. If you were Sherlock Holmes, you could deduce precisely how old the footprints are. But you're not; reading mystery novels has definitely not prepared you for this. You guess that the footprints aren't fresh, because their edges are soft with fallen snow. But they're not that old, either, because the shape of the prints is still deep and relatively clear. They definitely could have been from last night.] You need to find out who these footprints belong to. \ \(if: ($ireneflag is 0) and not ($inv contains "Irene's boots") and not ($inv contains "Gran's boots") and not ($inv contains "three sets of boots"))[ You hover your bare foot above the snow. Cold cold cold! The footprint is a lot bigger than your foot, but then again, shoes are bigger than feet. You have no idea who could have made the print.] \ \(if: $inv contains "three sets of boots" and $ireneflag is 0)[ You take the three sets of boots from the foyer closet and compare them to the footprints in the snow. Dad's are way too big; Mom's are too small. And Aunt Emily's have a cute little heel. No matches.] \ \(if: $inv contains "Gran's boots" and $ireneflag is 0)[ You hold Gran's boots above the footprints in the snow. They're a little too big.] \ \(if: $inv contains "Irene's boots" and $ireneflag is 0)[ (set: $ireneflag to 1)You compare Irene's winter boots to the footprints in the snow. They're an exact match, right down to the tread pattern. There's no doubt these boots made the prints. For a moment, you're totally delighted. Wow! Look at you, finding clues! You're a regular Hercule Poirot! And then you realize what this implies, that Irene might have stolen the ring and snuck out of the house to hide it or dispose of it. If she's guilty, Gran is going to be devastated.]] \(else-if: $ireneflag > 0)[You now know the footprints belong to Irene.] You can return to the [[foyer]].

When you were a kid, Gran used to help you make and decorate gingerbread cookies in this (link-reveal: "kitchen")[. You remember the smell of nutmeg and ginger and cinnamon, and the way Gran laughed when you got flour all over the floor, and how proud you were of the misshapen blob-monster cookies you produced. These days, it's really Irene's domain. It's even tidier and shinier than Gran kept it, and there's a certain air of professional pride in the little details: the stovetop gleaming, the mixer poised and ready, all the bottles in the spice rack with their labels facing forward]. (if: $emilyflag is 0)[Aunt Emily is here, on her phone as always, fixing herself a drink. It's barely noon, but you can't really blame her.](else-if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[Aunt Emily, wearing your puffy orange vest, is swirling an inch of alcohol in the bottom of her glass. It looks like she's considering pouring herself another.](else-if: ($emilyflag is 3) and ($inv contains "vest"))[Aunt Emily, back in her own white furry sweater, is starting in on a second (third?) drink.] [[Talk to Aunt Emily?]] You can go to the [[dining room]]. There is a passageway to the [[back hallway]].

The back hallway is narrow and dark. It's part of what was, historically, the "servants' quarters." Of course Gran doesn't call it that; she finds the whole idea distasteful. Irene doesn't like to wear shoes in her room, so she has a little mat outside the door to her room.(if: not ($inv contains "Irene's boots"))[ Her winter boots are lined up on the mat.] \ \(if: ((history:) contains "outside") and (not ($inv contains "Irene's boots") and (not ($ireneflag > 0) )))[ (link:"You can take the boots to compare them with the footprints.")[You take Irene's boots. You'll put them back later.(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "Irene's boots"))]] \(else-if: $inv contains "Irene's boots")[ (link:"You can put back Irene's boots.")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "Irene's boots"))You replace Irene's boots where you found them.]] At the end of the hall is a little door leading to [[Irene's room]]. There is a passageway into the [[kitchen]] from here. You can return to the [[foyer]].

Irene's room is the smallest room in the house, but also the (link-reveal:"coziest")[. There's nothing more than a single bed, a plain desk and chair, and a soft yellow armchair, but everything is in perfect order. There's a row of books lined up neatly along her desk, a bunch of dried lavender in a cobalt glass vase on her windowsill, and a postcard with a photo of a river you don't recognize tacked to the wall. It's kind of peaceful in here]. (if: $ireneflag < 4)[Irene sits on her bed, staring at the gentle snowfall outside her window. Her eyes are red; she's obviously been crying. She looks like just about anything might set her off again.](else:)[Irene still looks shaken, but she smiles tentatively at you when you enter.] [[Talk to Irene?]] You can return to the [[back hallway]].

You're in the upstairs hallway.(if: not ($codyflag is 2))[ Your Mom and Dad are staying in [[Dad's old bedroom|Mom and Dad's guest room]]. You're staying in [[the pink guest room|your guest room]]. Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick are staying in [[the main guest room|emily and rick's guest room]]. [[Gran's room]] is at the end of the hall. The [[bathroom]] is down the hall. You can climb up the rickety stairs to the [[attic]], where Cody is staying. You can go back down to the [[foyer]].](else:)[ Cody descends from the attic and slouches past you, swearing under his breath. He heads downstairs. Great, it looks like he doesn't know where the router is! You had better go straight up to the [[attic]] while you have the chance.]

Mom and Dad are staying in Dad's old bedroom. Gran hasn't changed a thing in here. It's like a time capsule of your father's (link-reveal: "adolescence")[: a pyramid of baseball trophies, a bulletin board tacked with blue ribbons that say things like VERMONT STATE QUIZ BOWL CHAMPION 1979, spots on the wall where the paint is discolored from tape that once held up posters. It's kind of nice and kind of weird to see evidence of your father as a teenager]. Mom is taking advantage of the break in the festivities to go into full work mode. She's sitting on the bed, working on her laptop with papers scattered all around her. But when she sees you, she smiles and sets her computer aside. [[Talk to Mom?]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].

Your guest room, or Aunt Emily's childhood bedroom. It's very pink. Even the painting on the wall is (link-reveal: "mostly pink")[: a fairytale castle with a princess in a pink gown looking very content in her pink tower. Grandpa must have painted this for Aunt Emily when she was a kid]. Your suitcase is under the bed. (click:"suitcase")[All that's inside are a week of clothes and your new Sherlock Holmes collection.](if: ($phonerecord >= 2 and $inv contains "your phone") or ($inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater") )[ You have some privacy here.](if: $phonerecord >= 2 and $inv contains "your phone")[ [[You can listen to the recorded conversation between Dad and Gran without being overheard.|Conversation between Dad and Gran]]](if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[ [[You can search Aunt Emily's sweater if you want.|Aunt Emily's sweater]]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].

Gran's room is the master suite, the largest bedroom in the house. She never locks her door; you hope she won't mind if you poke around a little. Her dresser is covered with (link-reveal:"old family photos")[. She has a lot of black and white photos of an unrecognizably young and handsome Grandpa, and a ton of cute photos of Dad and Aunt Emily as kids, back in the tiny apartment they used to live in before they inherited the Vermont house]. And out of place on the dresser, pushing a neat white doily askew, is her (link-reveal:"jewelry box")[. She probably took it out to see if she accidentally put the ring there, instead of the safe. It's unlocked and open, with necklaces and bracelets and rings strewn all around it on the dresser. Although Gran has always been careful to lock up her engagement ring, the rest of her jewelry is costume, or semi-precious at best. You know this because she's proud to tell everyone that, to show off the relatively modest glass or Lucite pendants that Grandpa bought her, back when they were young and broke. You think she sees some romance in that]. Her desk is mostly covered with vintage electronics: an aging desktop computer, a yellowed keyboard, a blinking router. (Gran is just tech-savvy enough to write emails and like every photo her children and grandchildren have ever posted on Facebook.)(if: $codyflag is 1)[(click: "router")[ It occurs to you that this router is the house's sole source of precious internet juice. Cody is currently glued to his computer in the attic, making it impossible for you to (link: "snoop")[investigate], but all you would have to do to disconnect his game is... (link-reveal: "unplug it.")[(if: $codyflag < 2)[(set: $codyflag to 2)] You unplug Gran's router; its flickering lights go dead and you hide the cable in the mess of wires behind her monitor. If all goes well, Cody will waste a bunch of time trying to get reconnected. You should have at least a few minutes to search the attic.]]] (link:"The doors to her bedroom closet are closed.")[You open the doors to her bedroom closet. Her shoes are neatly lined up in the closet(if: not ($inv contains "Gran's boots"))[, including a tidy pair of snowboots. (link-reveal:"They don't look recently worn")[. It's icy out. Gran used to go skiing nearly every weekend in the winter, but she stopped a few years ago. Apparently her doctor gave her a talking-to about how dangerous it would be if she fell, at her age. She's being more cautious now]].(if: ((history:) contains "outside") and (not ($inv contains "Gran's boots") and (not ($ireneflag > 0) )))[ (link:"You can take the boots to compare them with the footprints.")[You take Gran's boots. She's probably not going to miss them.(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "Gran's boots"))]](else-if: $inv contains "Gran's boots")[ (link:"You can put back Gran's boots.")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "Gran's boots"))You replace Gran's boots where you found them.]] At the very back of the closet, hidden behind a row of Grandpa's dress shirts, is (link-reveal:"Gran's safe")[. You try the handle; it's locked. There are no visible signs of tampering, no scratchmarks or, like, drill holes or anything. The only way someone could get into the safe is with the combination]. (if: not ($inv contains "safe combination"))[You wish you could investigate the safe more thoroughly, check out what's inside it and find out if anything else is missing... but you'd need the combination for that.](else-if: $inv contains "safe combination")[You have the safe combination written on an index card. (link: "If you want, you can open the safe.")[(if: $granflag < 4)[(set: $granflag to 4)] You turn the combination lock six times, and the safe door opens with a satisfying click. First you see the ring box. You open it, just to be sure; it's empty, of course. You even sweep your fingers around the edges of the safe, in case the ring has fallen somewhere. No luck. But it was worth a try. Then you see a stack of manila envelopes, neatly labeled in Gran's spidery handwriting. TAXES. HOUSE. END OF LIFE PLANNING. And (link-reveal:"INSURANCE")[. You open the envelope labeled insurance and sort through it carefully. Gran has different categories paper-clipped together, so you skip all the health and life and car and homeowner's insurance, and zero in on the first paper you see with the word *jewelry*. You wish you could consult Mom on this, but Gran made it very clear that everything in the safe is private. And you're smart enough to read an insurance policy, right? The first papers are from 1960, in Grandpa's name: a jewelry insurance policy letter and an appraisal for the ring (for $50,000, but that was a long time ago). A thick stack of letters that look like automatic renewals to the jewelry insurance policy, one a year like clockwork. There are updated appraisals of the ring every five years, its value usually increasing. Presumably because of inflation, or diamond prices, or something? But after 1980, there are no more appraisals, and no more renewal letters from the insurance company. So either the paperwork is missing, or the ring isn't insured at all. And if it isn't insured, that means Gran has no conceivable motive for 'losing' it. It seems to you that what's in the safe clears Gran from suspicion... which makes it even weirder that she was so reluctant to let you look. And so obviously upset].]]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].

This is Gran's formal guest room. It's a little fancier than the other guest rooms, which used to be your dad and Aunt Emily's childhood bedrooms; it's got eggshell-white walls and matching linens and stuff. There's one of Grandpa's paintings on the walls, too, a big (link-reveal: "snowy landscape")[. It's one of your favorites; you like the tiny figure of a Vermonter collecting maple sap from his taps]. Uncle Rick is lying back on the bed, his arms behind his head, watching football on the television. You're not sure if the game is live; he doesn't seem exactly riveted by the score, so maybe it's a replay. [[Talk to Uncle Rick?]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].

Next to the sink are a bowl of decorative soaps shaped like seashells and a pile of fancy handtowels.(if: (history:) contains "GRAN: Can you tell me what you did last night?")[ Gran mentioned that she takes the ring off when she washes her hands. (link:"You ought to search around here.")[You search all around the sink, examining every tiny soap seashell and unfolding and refolding every fancy handtowel. You get down on your hands and knees and check the tiles and baseboards.(if: $inv contains "your phone")[You even use your phone's flashlight to peer down the sink drain.] You find... zilch.]] Above the sink is a huge gilt-framed (link-reveal:"mirror")[;(if: $inv contains "vest")[ in the vest Gran gave you, you look like a big orange marshmallow](else-if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[ in Aunt Emily's faux fur-trimmed sweater, you kind of look like a Pomeranian]].(if: ($phonerecord >= 2 and $inv contains "your phone") or ($inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater") )[ You have some privacy here.](if: $phonerecord >= 2 and $inv contains "your phone")[ [[You can listen to the recorded conversation between Dad and Gran without being overheard.|Conversation between Dad and Gran]]](if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[ [[You can search Aunt Emily's sweater if you want.|Aunt Emily's sweater]]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].

Back when Grandpa was alive, he used the attic as his painting studio. There are still photos tacked to the walls and blank canvases propped up in the corner. In the summer, the attic is the nicest room in the house: sunny and breezy and private. At this time of year it's bone-achingly frigid. You can't believe (link-reveal: "Cody actually prefers sleeping here")[. Back when you were both kids, Cody and you used to share a room at Christmastime, so no one had to sleep in the attic. Then for a couple of years, once Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick decided he was too old to share a room with a girl, he slept on the couch in the parlor. You were eight and he was ten, and you had thought this was a terrible injustice, but it wasn't up to you. Then just a few years ago, he started insisting on staying in the attic. He's only been in the house for a couple of days, and already he's crapped up the place: there are piles of dirty clothes and empty soda cans everywhere. You can't imagine he gets away with this at home, under Uncle Rick's drill sergeant eyes].(if: not ($codyflag is 2))[ Cody is here, sitting on his bed with his computer. It's making pew-pew-pew and rat-tat-tat noises from some game you don't recognize.(if: $codyflag is 1)[ When you enter, he just grunts at you. If only you could get Cody out of the attic, you could search his stuff. That way you would find the ring if he has it, or figure out if he's hiding something. He looks pretty absorbed in that game; maybe if you cut the internet, he'll go looking for a way to reconnect.](else-if: $codyflag is 3)[ It looks like he got the internet hooked back up.](else-if: $codyflag is 4)[ When you enter, he glances up and scowls. He doesn't look particularly happy to see you, but he's not kicking you out, either. You guess that's the best you can hope for right now.] [[Talk to Cody?]] You can go back to the [[upstairs hallway|upstairs]].](else:)[ The attic is empty now. Cody's computer lies abandoned on the bed. Now, while he's gone, is your chance to [[search his stuff.|Search Cody's stuff?]] ]

Despite your best efforts to make eye contact, Cody keeps staring at his computer screen. This is going to be rough. [[Hi, Cody.|CODY: Hi, Cody.]] [[When did you last see the ring?|CODY: When did you last see the ring?]] [[What did you do last night?|CODY: What did you do last night?]] [[Do you get an allowance from your parents?|CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?]] [[Okay, who do you think took the ring?|CODY: Okay, who do you think took the ring?]](if: $codyflag >= 3)[ [[Cody, I found the ring.|CODY: Cody, I found the ring.]] ] [[Bye, Cody.|attic]]

(if: (history:)'s last is "parlor")["Let me give you two some privacy," Dad offers. He grabs a handful of cookies and retreats from the parlor.](else:)[Gran sets her teacup on its saucer and turns her attention to you.] [[Hey, Gran. Are you okay?|GRAN: Hey, Gran. Are you okay?]] [[When was the last time you saw the ring?|GRAN: When was the last time you saw the ring?]] [[Can you tell me what you did last night?|GRAN: Can you tell me what you did last night?]] [[Why are you so sure no one took the ring?|GRAN: Why are you so sure no one took the ring?]] [[Can you tell me about the ring?|GRAN: Can you tell me about the ring?]](if: $ireneflag >= 2)[ [[What do you know about Irene's personal life?|GRAN: What do you know about Irene's personal life?]]](if: ((history:) contains "EMILY: Have you ever borrowed Gran's ring?"))[ [[Why didn't you let Aunt Emily try on the ring last night?|GRAN: Why didn't you let Aunt Emily try on the ring last night?]]](if: $granflag >= 1)[ [[Do you have an insurance policy on the ring?|GRAN: Do you have an insurance policy on the ring?]]](if: ($granflag >= 2) and ($phonerecord >= 3))[ [[Can I look inside your safe?|GRAN: Can I look inside your safe?]]](if: $granflag >= 4)[ [[There's something that doesn't make sense to me.|GRAN: There's something that doesn't make sense to me.]]] [[Bye, Gran.|parlor]]

Mom smiles and waits for you to speak first. She's good at getting people to spill their guts: kind of a scary lady, actually. If anyone can help you solve a mystery, it's her. Lawyering is like detective work, right? [[When did you last see the ring?|MOM: When did you last see the ring?]] [[What were you doing last night?|MOM: What were you doing last night?]] [[You don't ever wear an engagement ring. Do you have one?|MOM: You don't ever wear an engagement ring. Do you have one?]] [[What will happen if the police come?|MOM: What will happen if the police come?]](if: $phonerecord >= 3)[ [[Do you and Dad have any money problems?|MOM: Do you and Dad have any money problems?]]](if: $rickflag >= 1)[ [[Can you give me any advice about questioning an uncooperative witness?|MOM: Can you give me any advice about questioning an uncooperative witness?]] ] [[Bye, Mom.|Mom and Dad's guest room]]

{  (set: $inv to (a:))   (set: $randomimage to "") (set: $restart to false)  (set: $phonerecord to 0) (set: $phonenotes to 0) (set: $tryagain to 0) (set: $dadflag to 0) (set: $momflag to 0) (set: $granflag to 0) (set: $emilyflag to 0) (set: $rickflag to 0) (set: $codyflag to 0) (set: $ireneflag to 0)   -->}

You walk into the kitchen and say, "Hey, Dad, it's midnight!" "Oh, right—the cookies. Sorry, not tonight, Sadie. They'll still be there in the morning." This is the first time since you were six that Dad hasn't eaten Santa's cookies with you. Whatever's going on must be serious. "Well, it's past my bedtime," Gran says, standing and stifling a yawn. "I'd better go tuck myself in." "Night, Mom." Dad hugs her and stands in the foyer, watching her make her way slowly up the stairs. Normally Gran is like a sturdy old battleship, but right now she looks almost fragile. You go [[back to bed]].

Uncle Rick glances away from the television and gives you a nod.(if: ($rickflag < 2) and ((history:) contains "RICK: When did you last see the ring?") and ((history:) contains "RICK: What were you doing last night?") and ((history:) contains "RICK: Who do you think took the ring?"))[(if: $rickflag is 0)[(set: $rickflag to 1)] He doesn't seem particularly inclined to talk to you, does he?(if: $codyflag >= 1)[ Not unlike his son.] You can't even begin to imagine what you could say to Uncle Rick to get him to open up to you. You've known him ever since you were born, but it's possible you've never even had a one-on-one conversation with him before. It's just not that kind of relationship. At the moment, you're feeling a little more Watson than Sherlock, a little more Hastings than Poirot. You could use some help. Fortunately, there's someone in the house who can give you tips on how to interrogate an uncooperative witness.](if: $rickflag is 2)[ He hasn't been particularly helpful yet, but at least you have a plan now: find some leverage, a way of making him talk to you. If Uncle Rick has a sensitive spot, it probably has to do with his family; you wonder if you could learn anything useful by talking to Aunt Emily and Cody.](if: $rickflag is 3)[ Uncle Rick is the same red-faced grouch as he's always been. It's not like you two are suddenly friends. But after everything that's happened today, you think you almost understand him, at least a little. It's a weird feeling.] [[When did you last see the ring?|RICK: When did you last see the ring?]] [[What were you doing last night?|RICK: What were you doing last night?]] [[Who do you think took the ring?|RICK: Who do you think took the ring?]](if: ($rickflag >= 2) and ($emilyflag is 3) and ($codyflag is 4))[ [[It must be hard for you.|RICK: It must be hard for you.]] ] [[Bye, Uncle Rick.|emily and rick's guest room]]

(if: (history:)'s last is "parlor")[When you sit down next to Dad, Gran stands up. "You can speak with your father privately if you want," she says. "I'm going to go powder my nose."](else:)[Dad nibbles on a cookie and watches you expectantly.] [[How are you doing, Dad?|DAD: How are you doing, Dad?]] [[When was the last time you saw the ring?|DAD: When was the last time you saw the ring?]] [[What did you do last night?|DAD: What did you do last night?]] [[Who do you think took the ring?|DAD: Who do you think took the ring?]] [[Why do you think someone would want to steal the ring?|DAD: Why do you think someone would want to steal the ring?]](if: $dadflag > 1)[ [[Who knows who is going to inherit Gran's ring?|DAD: Who knows who is going to inherit Gran's ring?]]](if: $momflag > 0)[ [[Why didn't you propose to Mom with the ring?|DAD: Why didn't you propose to Mom with the ring?]]] [[Bye, Dad.|parlor]]

*The Missing Ring* is an interactive mystery novella. It may take you one to two hours to complete. Thank you so much for playing! Please feel free to contact me through (link-repeat: "email")[(open-URL: "mailto:felicity@felicitydrake.com")] or (link-repeat: "Twitter")[(open-URL: "https://twitter.com/DrakeFelicity")] with feedback, suggestions, etc. (If you get stuck, I will send hints!) NOTE: This game is played in your browser, and it does not automatically save your progress. If you press the refresh or back buttons in your browser, you will lose all progress since your last save! You can save the state of your game by clicking the "Save" link in the sidebar, and you can return to your saved game by clicking the "Load" link. Please note that your saved game is stored inside your browser's web storage, so it may be deleted if you clear your browser's history. This is the (link-repeat: "Spring Thing 2019")[(open-URL: "http://www.springthing.net/2019/index.html")] release. An earlier version of the beginning of this game was released as an excerpt for (link-repeat: "IntroComp 2018")[(open-URL: "http://www.introcomp.org/")]. Emoji graphics are open source (link-repeat:"Twemoji")[(open-URL:"https://twitter.github.io/twemoji/")] by Twitter, licensed under (link-repeat:"CC-BY 4.0")[(open-URL:"https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/")]. Cover image is from DGlodowska on (link-repeat:"Pixabay")[(open-URL:"https://pixabay.com/photos/ring-diamond-jewelry-engagement-441783/")]. Many thanks to my beta testers! (link-goto: "back", (history:)'s last)

After that, no one's in much of a mood for Christmas festivity. You all go through the motions of opening presents, eating cookies, reminiscing about Christmases past. Your Christmas haul includes: (link-reveal:"A gorgeous hardcover set of the complete Sherlock Holmes")[: from your parents, indulging your recent obsession with mystery novels. They already gave you a big present for Chanukah; this year it was your beloved new iPhone]. (link-reveal:"A super-warm insulated vest")[: from Gran. She always thinks you dress too lightly for the winter. It's puffy, utilitarian, and orange, basically the anti-fashion. But it's warm, and it's got pockets].(if: not ($inv contains "vest") )[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "vest"))] (link-reveal:"And a donation in your family's name to the Salvation Army")[: from Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick, same as every year. You can't really complain, because it's for charity, but you wish they would have chosen a less homophobic organization, maybe something nice and normal and neutral like Heifer International. Plus you're 90% sure they specifically chose a Christian charity to annoy Mom]. Everyone seems almost grateful when the last present is unwrapped and they can politely excuse themselves. Family togetherness is a little difficult at the best of times, and this isn't the best of times. "Dinner's at six sharp," Gran reminds everyone as they stand to go. "It's lamb," she adds, a note of false cheer in her voice. Poor Gran. It's ridiculous for everyone to try to act as if things are normal. Nothing's normal here. Even if the ring is just innocently missing, the family's going to cannibalize itself with its suspicions. And if, as you suspect, someone took it... But it's going to be okay. You haven't read all those mystery novels for nothing. You're going to find the ring, and if there's a thief, you're going to catch the thief. And you'll put an end to this *today*, before Aunt Emily calls in the police—for Gran's sake. Sitting there in the middle of the crumpled wrapping paper, you whip out your phone and start making a list, so you can check your phone whenever you need a reminder about what to do next. [[It's time to start your investigation.|foyer]]

(if: $emilyflag is 0)[You clear your throat to get Aunt Emily's attention, and she hurriedly stuffs her phone into the pocket of her sweater. (if: not ((history:) contains "Talk to Aunt Emily?"))[She's always on that thing.](else-if: ((history:) contains "Talk to Aunt Emily?") and ($emilyflag is 0))[If only you could get a look at that phone!]](else-if: ($emilyflag >= 1) and ($emilyflag < 3))[Without her phone, Aunt Emily doesn't know what to do with her hands. She fidgets aimlessly at you.](else-if: $emilyflag is 3)[Aunt Emily glances up at you with watery eyes and gives you an embarrassed little smile.] [[When did you last see the ring?|EMILY: When did you last see the ring?]] [[What did you do last night?|EMILY: What did you do last night?]] [[Who do you think took the ring?|EMILY: Who do you think took the ring?]] [[Do you know who is going to inherit Gran's ring?|EMILY: Do you know who is going to inherit Gran's ring?]](if: ((history:) contains "Talk to Aunt Emily?") and ($emilyflag is 0))[ [[I love your sweater.|EMILY: I love your sweater.]]](if: ($inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater") and ($emilyflag >= 2))[ [[Here, let me give you back your sweater.|EMILY: Here, let me give you back your sweater.]]](if: $emilyflag >= 2)[ [[Have you ever borrowed Gran's ring?|EMILY: Have you ever borrowed Gran's ring?]]] [[Bye, Aunt Emily.|kitchen]]

You make sure the door is closed, then replay your phone's recording of a conversation between Dad and Gran. First you hear the sound of (link-reveal:"someone")[ (Dad, presumably)] rummaging for a cookie. "Hmph, so next on the list is—" he begins, mumbling around a mouthful of cookie. "Take your time, Jack, and don't talk with your mouth full," Gran admonishes. It's pretty fun to hear your dad get scolded by his mother. "Sorry." He clears his throat. "Next on the list is the house. Do you have the deed and everything in order?" "Yes, yes. I was avoiding it for a while, but I finally went through your father's old papers like you told me to. Deeds, taxes, insurance, all that nightmare. Everything's in order. Do I need to get it appraised?" "No, don't worry about that. That's something that can wait until after," Dad says. *After*? After what? "Are you sure you want it to be sold?" "I think it's best. They won't be able to split it, after all, and the property taxes will just be a burden." It makes sense now: Dad is being so secretive about Gran's estate planning because *he's doing Gran's estate planning*. And Gran is planning on having the house sold off after she dies. But she didn't say *you* won't be able to split it: *you* as in Dad and Aunt Emily. She said *they* won't be able to split it. Who is *they*? "Emily won't like it," Dad warns. "And you?" "I'll miss this place—we all will." "It's just a building," Gran replies stoutly. "It doesn't own your memories." "I'm not disagreeing with you. Just—this is going to be hard on everyone." "Not on me. I won't be there for it," she jokes. "Mom!" Dad sighs. "It's going to be a horrible time no matter what. I'm afraid your decisions are going to make it harder on Emily than it has to be. Would you be willing to take more time to think about this?" "I might not see you again until the summer. I hope to be sunbathing and planting my tomatoes when I see you next, but you and I both know that at my age, nothing's guaranteed," Gran continues, her voice firm. "What I have is all that's left of the Lawson money, and it ought to go towards the future. You and Emily have—well, you're already grown. You've got houses and retirement accounts, and you've both survived being young and poor. The grandkids—they've still got college, marriage, kids, and mortgages in their futures. I've made up my mind about this, Jack." You wish you hadn't listened to the recording. You didn't want to know about Gran's plans for her money. And you definitely didn't want to know that you and Cody are inheriting everything. There's no way you're talking about this to anyone. You weren't supposed to know any of this, and spreading this information around would be a disaster. But on the other hand: this sounds like a powerful motive. Mom and Dad and Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick aren't getting anything after Gran dies. If any of them know about the will and were counting on an inheritance, they might feel resentful. And if any of them really need the money, they'd know stealing was the only way to get it.(if: $dadflag < 2)[(set: $dadflag to 2)](if: $phonerecord < 3)[(set: $phonerecord to 3)] (link-goto: "Yikes.", (history:)'s last)

(if: (passage:)'s tags contains "donotshowfooter")[](else:)[(if: ($dadflag is 3) and ($emilyflag is 3) and ($rickflag is 3) and ($codyflag is 4) and ($ireneflag is 4) and ($granflag is 5) and ((history:) contains "EMILY: When did you last see the ring?") and ((history:) contains "CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?") and ((history:) contains "GRAN: Can you tell me about the ring?"))[ (link-reveal: "You've probably done everything you can.")[ You've snooped and interrogated and sleuthed to the point of exhaustion today. It's almost time for dinner. (Which is going to be lamb, remember?) If you're ready to face the family, to tell them what you think happened to the ring, you can [[go to Christmas dinner]].]](if: $phonenotes is 1)[ (display: "To Do")]]

You've got just a few minutes to search Cody's stuff before he comes back from resetting the router. You'd better be quick. Right away, you make a beeline for his computer. Anything really personal or juicy would be on there. No luck, though—it's password-protected, and he made sure to lock it before he left. That's an impressive level of paranoia. Next, his luggage. Nothing good there: clothes and ratty textbooks and empty chip bags all mixed together. Gross. Finally—you really would prefer not to, but you don't have much choice—you have to poke through his pile of discarded clothing. Touching your cousin's dirty boxers is absolutely the low point of your (link:"day")[(link:"week")[year]]. But then, in a pair of crusty jeans, you feel something heavy—a wallet! You glance at the door, then hurriedly rifle through Cody's wallet. He has three dollar bills and a handful of change. That's it. (if: (history:) contains "CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?")[Your suspicions about his low cash flow are confirmed. You were right to ask about money. ](else:)[Weird: you're a broke teenager too, but at least you have a twenty kicking around somewhere. You'd better ask him about that. ]No debit cards from his parents or anything, either. You think about what that means: he can never pay for a meal or a movie or a cab ride. He can't go anywhere unless his parents or his friends pay for it. And does Cody have friends? (if: (history:) contains "CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?")[Like he said, t](else:)[T]here's no driver's license or learner's permit. No state ID either, just his high school ID. *Lighthouse Boys' Academy*, which must have been the name of that school for troubled kids his parents transferred him to last year. The wallet feels a little thicker and heavier than it should be, given that there's almost nothing inside it. While you're looking for cards or ID, you notice that one of the seams on the wallet's lining has come open. Which is weird, for what looks like a new and relatively unworn wallet. You grope around inside the lining to see if he's hiding anything there (the ring? a pawn slip? hundreds in cash?). A bundle of folded-up paper. You unfold it, and (link-reveal: "*a ring drops into your lap*")[. It's not Gran's ring, unfortunately. It's a chunky silver-colored ring, too big even for your thumb. Definitely a man's ring. You're not a jewelry expert, but it doesn't look expensive. There's no engraving on the inside and no design on the outside, nothing to indicate what, exactly, it is. Why does Cody have a ring? And why is he hiding it? You look at the paper next. *c— miss you love you thinking of you —m* Cody has a secret girlfriend! That's juicy. Maybe he stole Gran's ring as a present for her? To give in exchange for the promise ring she gave him? Inside the folded letter is a second, smaller folded-up piece of paper. It feels stiff. You unfold it. It's one of those strips of photos from a photobooth, the kind you would get at a mall or an arcade. The photos are all of Cody with some guy you don't recognize. Probably Cody's age, with floppy black hair and a nose piercing, kind of cute. (link-reveal: "It takes you a second to put it all together")[. Cody has a boyfriend. Cody has a boyfriend!!! Cody has a secret boyfriend and he carries around a promise ring in his wallet. Does Uncle Rick know? Oh my god, is that why Cody was sent to a school for troubled teens? What if Uncle Rick *doesn't* know? What would Uncle Rick do if he found out? You feel like a piece of chewed gum on the bottom of a shoe. Everything you ever thought about Cody looks different now that you know this. Cody used to be a normal, happy kid. You two used to have fun together at Gran and Grandpa's house during Christmas and summer vacations. He would play hide-and-seek with you and build Legos with you even though he was two years older and probably would have enjoyed other things more. And then he got less and less fun, and turned into this completely miserable and unlovable lump of teen angst, and you had assumed that he was just a horrible teenage boy, and written him off. You would rather chew glass than have to live with Uncle Rick. You can't even imagine what it's been like for Cody. You'd better put everything back and [[get out of here|upstairs]] before Cody returns(if: $codyflag is 2)[(set: $codyflag to 3)]]].

(if: $emilyflag is 1)[(set: $emilyflag to 2)]You begin to search all the pockets of Aunt Emily's sweater. You find: breath mints, lint, a packet of tissues, a half-used mauve (link-reveal: "lipstick")[. That's a little surprising. The lipstick is a bargain brand you recognize. You have a couple of their lip glosses, because they're only two or three bucks. The quality isn't too bad, but still, you'd expect Aunt Emily to use a more expensive brand]. And her cellphone. She's always glued to this thing, and you're dying to find out why. There's no passcode or security of any kind. Thank goodness for middle-aged innocence. You open it up and start snooping: (link-reveal: "Call record")[: Mostly calls to Uncle Rick and Cody. Some calls to and from contacts with female names, probably friends. Nothing sticks out.] (link-reveal: "Photo gallery")[: Aunt Emily takes a surprising number of selfies for an older woman. Or maybe that's ageism on your part? She takes four or five shots at a time, experimenting with poses and angles. A lot of photos of her cooking and her garden. A few dour posed family shots; Cody ruins every single one with his frown.(if: $codyflag >= 3)[ You suppose you can't blame him.] And from last night, a selfie with Gran in front of the Christmas tree.(if: (history:) contains "EMILY: When did you last see the ring?")[ Aunt Emily already showed it to you.]] (link-reveal: "Email")[: You don't want to just rifle through her entire personal life for no reason. First you try searching "ring," just in case. You don't know what you expect to find: a time-stamped confession email reading, "I just stole my mother's heirloom ring"? But instead, you get hundreds and hundreds of results. What? Why? Who could possibly email the word "ring" that much? Almost all the results are automated notification emails from some message board. She must be a regular. The board is called WeddingMe. You've never heard of it. You'd better (link-reveal: "check it out.")[ You navigate to WeddingMe in her browser. Sure enough, she's already logged in. You click on her profile (BigApplePrincess?) and start browsing through her posts. (link-reveal: "**Show me your bling!!!**")[ Right there, in the middle of a thread full of brides posting photos of their engagement rings, is a picture of Gran's ring. But judging by the perfect manicure and lack of wrinkles, it's not Gran's hand wearing it. The post beneath it says: *My ring has a 2.57 carat emerald cut F color / VS1 clarity center stone set in platinum accented with 6 baguette-cut diamonds (3.5 total carat weight). My fiance wanted to buy something bigger, but I had my heart set on an Art Deco style. I love the clean, geometric look. Our budget was $100,000. My fiance works in finance here in NYC, and he likes to spoil me!!!* (link-reveal: "**Minimum Carat Size?**")[ *I honestly think 1 carat is the minimum size for a center stone. If you can't afford a 1 carat stone, it's better to get a cheaper stone like sapphire or morganite so it looks okay on your finger, instead of having a tiny diamond that makes it look like your fiance is cheap.* (link-reveal: "**Craziest responses to your engagement ring**")[ There's another picture of Gran's ring in this thread: a different photo and a different manicure, but the same hand. Is it possible that's Aunt Emily modeling the ring? The post underneath the photo says: *In my social circle in the Upper East Side, my ring is pretty normal, but when I travel, people can be so judgmental. People have asked me if my center diamond is real, because they've never seen a stone so big before. And then they act all offended when I say it is! I had no idea people could be so rude.* (link-reveal: "Okay—that's enough.")[ You definitely don't need to read any more of this. This is the weirdest hobby you've ever heard of. It's not exactly catfishing; it's not like she's luring people in to date her online. She's just posing as some kind of New York City socialite with a rich fiancé... in order to post on a wedding message board. It might be bizarre but harmless. Maybe she just wants to experiment with an identity that's totally different than her real life; Aunt Emily doesn't live anywhere near New York, and Uncle Rick doesn't work in anything close to finance. But then there's the issue of *diamond rings*. She posts in loving, pornographic detail about 'her' engagement ring. She's posted pictures of Gran's ring, even, although none are from this visit. She posts on other women's threads about *their* wedding rings, making underhanded, cutting remarks about their rings: a diamond with *that* much yellow really shouldn't be classified as a white diamond, but I'm sure you got a great deal for it; yes, dear, everyone can tell that's a moissanite, but what matters is that *you* love it. That sort of thing. It's *so* mean and it's *so* weird and maybe it means she's obsessed with Gran's ring and would totally steal it? On the other hand, her posting looks almost compulsive. If she had stolen the ring, wouldn't she already be photographing it and posting and bragging on WeddingMe? Either way, this stuff is wild, and you probably have to talk to Aunt Emily about it. (link-goto: "That's going to be awkward.", (history:)'s last)]]]]]]

Irene stares at you. [[Hi, Irene. Are you okay?|IRENE: Hi, Irene. Are you okay?]] [[When did you last see the ring?|IRENE: When did you last see the ring?]] [[Who do you think took the ring?|IRENE: Who do you think took the ring?]] [[What did you do last night?|IRENE: What did you do last night?]](if: $ireneflag >= 1)[ [[Can you tell me why you left the house last night?|IRENE: Can you tell me why you left the house last night?]]](if: $ireneflag >= 3)[ [[Who is your friend in town?|IRENE: Who is your friend in town?]]] [[Bye, Irene.|Irene's room]]

"Hi, Irene. Are you okay?" you ask. "Oh, Sadie—it's you." She sniffles. "I'm fine. What do you need?" "I don't need anything. I was just hoping to ask you some questions." "Oh." [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"When did you last see the ring?" you ask. "Last night, right after dessert," Irene answers. That would have been around 9:30, as you recall. "I was clearing the dining room table; I saw your grandmother leave the table and walk into the parlor with Emily. I noticed she was still wearing her jewelry—I *think* she was wearing the ring. I didn't see her again last night; she went to bed before I was finished cleaning up after dinner." "Thank you. That's helpful." "Is it?" she asks, wringing her hands. [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"Who do you think took the ring?" you ask. "Your grandmother says she lost it," Irene says. "You live with Gran. Does she lose things often?" She falls silent, then shakes her head. "I don't know if anyone took it." [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"What did you do last night?" you ask. Irene presses her lips together. "You think I took your grandmother's ring. Is that what you think?" "I don't know who took it. I'm asking everyone these questions." She shakes her head. "I am not the same as *everyone*. I have lived with your grandmother for five years, and still..." Looks like Aunt Emily's accusation at the breakfast table really hurt Irene. You can't blame her. Hasn't she earned everyone's trust, after all this time? If she wanted to steal from Gran, she's had plenty of opportunities over the years. On the other hand, a clever thief would wait until there was a houseful of suspects... Gran loves Irene, and would never suspect her of anything—but you can't let sentiment rule your list of suspects. Everyone is on it until they aren't. "I *have* to ask everyone. I'm even asking my own parents." You stare at her, waiting for her to object further. When she doesn't, you repeat the question. "What did you do last night?" "I cleaned up after Christmas Eve dinner. I did a little tidying and preparing for the next morning. Then I took a shower and went to bed." "About what time did you go to bed?" "I'm not sure... maybe eleven?" You don't have any way of verifying if that's true or not. You were awake until midnight for Santa's cookies, but after Christmas Eve dinner, you just stayed in your room until twelve. [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"Who is your friend in town?" you ask. (This is a gamble. Maybe she doesn't have a friend in town; maybe she just goes to town to watch movies or drink alone in bars. You don't know her life.) Irene stares at you for a long moment, then shakes her head. "I don't know how you know that. But since you do—yes, I was seeing my boyfriend last night." She stands, crosses the room to her desk, and plucks a photo out from its hiding place inside a book. (link-reveal:"She hands the photo to you")[: it's of herself standing next to a tan, middle-aged guy wearing a faded t-shirt that reads MARINO'S LAWN AND SNOW SERVICES. They look happy]. "Last night, I cleaned up after dinner, took a shower, and went to his place. I left the house around ten thirty last night and returned around six o' clock this morning. If you need to prove where I was last night, you can call him. Does it need to go that far?" she asks, her hands clenched at her sides. You feel almost certain now that Irene isn't the thief, but her obvious discomfort makes it a little harder to you to enjoy your triumph as a detective. Like, yeah, you uncovered the truth, but you also made a sweet and totally harmless person miserable. "No, I'm sure it doesn't," you answer. "Gran doesn't know?" Irene takes her photo back and hides it inside a book again. "I've learned to build a wall between my work and my private life. Because I live with my employer, if I don't protect my private life, I won't have anything for myself. Can you understand that?" "Of course—I'm sorry. I know I kind of crossed the line with you." Irene turns back to you, and for a moment you expect to be scolded, but her face just melts into a warm smile. "You're just trying to help your grandmother. Thank you for taking care of her."(if: $ireneflag is 3)[(set: $ireneflag to 4)] [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"Can you tell me why you left the house last night?" you ask. Her face drains of color. "I didn't... how did you *know*?" she sputters. She's a terrible liar. That's good to know. "It doesn't matter how I know. Can you tell me where you went?" Irene buries her face in her hands, and for a moment you think she's going to melt down—but then she slaps her cheeks lightly, blinks away her tears, and manages to keep her voice even enough to say: "I can't tell you that, Sadie." "What? Irene—it's important. If you don't tell me, what am I supposed to think?" "I did not steal the ring. I did not hide the ring. I am telling you the truth, but I—but I do *not* have to tell you everything about my life." You consider that statement. Irene's life... her personal life, maybe? You don't know anything about it. Which sounds appalling, now that you think about it. You've known her for five years. You know she's originally from the Philippines, that she's been working as a housekeeper in the US for... actually, you have no idea how long. You don't know anything about her, which makes you feel like a real ass. Irene has never been anything but sweet and obliging; this is the first time she's ever shown a hint of steel. But she seems immovable. You're going to need some more information about her before you can get her to open up.(if: $ireneflag is 1)[(set: $ireneflag to 2)] [[back|Talk to Irene?]]

"When did you last see the ring?" you ask.(if: not ($inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater"))[ "Last night, a little before ten. Wait—let me check." Aunt Emily pulls her phone from her pocket, swipes through her photo gallery, and presents you with a selfie she took with Gran. It's of the two of them in front of the Christmas tree, and Gran's arm is around Aunt Emily's shoulders. You can see the ring on Gran's left hand. "Timestamped..." Aunt Emily swipes and taps dramatically. "9:55 PM," she announces. Okay—Aunt Emily can be annoying, but that is some beautifully precise, solid evidence. The best you've seen all day.](else-if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[ "Last night, a little before ten." Aunt Emily automatically reaches to her pocket for her phone, realizes that she's wearing your orange vest, and frowns vaguely. "I think."] [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

"What did you do last night?" you ask. "Well, I was at dinner with you and everyone. That was until around 9:30, right? Then Mom and I went into the parlor for a nightcap. She left around ten. After that, I went up to the attic to say goodnight to Cody. Then I went to our room—the guest room, that is. And of course the bathroom too." "Did you go back downstairs after that?" "No—well, yes, to bring some dishes from our room down to the kitchen. I saw Irene wandering all around the downstairs, by the way, after ten o' clock. I wouldn't be surprised if that's when she took it." You choose to ignore her accusations against Irene, at least for the time being, and focus on her own story. That's a perfectly reasonable itinerary, but it also means Aunt Emily was moving all over the house last night after ten. She could have been anywhere, and there won't be anyone who can fully account for her whereabouts. And she may have been the last one to see the ring. [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

"Who do you think took the ring?" you ask, and immediately regret it. The whole family already knows that Aunt Emily suspects Irene. Aunt Emily inhales grandly and scowls. "Do you really think one of the *family* would rob Mom?" "I'm keeping an open mind." She shakes her head violently. "It's the only reasonable explanation. Your parents are very *sensitive*, and they don't want to offend anyone, but I think it's more important that we don't let Mom get robbed blind!" Ugh. [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

"Do you know who is going to inherit Gran's ring, or her jewelry?" you ask. "Sorry. I know that's kind of a nosy question." "It's not nosy at all!" Aunt Emily declares. "I have no idea what's in Mom's will. She's private about these things, you know... but I know what it *should* be." "What do you mean?" "Obviously the jewelry should go to the women in the family. And that's you and me." You didn't expect her to include you. It would have been easy for her to assume that as Gran's only daughter, she should get all the jewelry. It's almost sweet that she wants you to inherit. "But there are two of us and only one ring," you point out. "Oh, well..." Aunt Emily shrugs. "If I were Mom, I would leave the ring to me, because I'm the next generation. And then I'd leave it to you, whenever I pass on." "What about Cody? He might want to propose with it." Aunt Emily's face clouds over for a moment. (if: $codyflag >= 3)[You wonder what she's thinking. Is she worrying that Cody will never propose, at least not to a girl who'd wear a big diamond ring?](else:)[You wonder what that means.] "I guess I'd have to think about that," she says slowly. "Because it would have hurt me a lot if Mom had given the ring to your father. I know he's the eldest son and all, but he would never wear the ring himself, you know? It's *my* mother's ring."(if: (history:) contains "MOM: You don't ever wear an engagement ring. Do you have one?")[ You know, from talking to your Mom, that Gran *did* offer the ring to Dad. You suppose the whole family's lucky that Mom isn't the diamond type, because you can easily imagine that whole thing spiraling into a decades'-long feud...] Aunt Emily frowns again, her shoulders slumping. "So I wouldn't want *you* to feel that way if I left the ring to Cody, and..." (if: $codyflag >= 3)[Talking about Cody and engagement obviously upsets her. You want to hate her for what she's doing to Cody, or what she's letting Uncle Rick do to Cody—but she looks so utterly miserable that it's hard to summon up any righteous anger.](else:)[Talking about Cody and the ring obviously upsets her. You wonder why.] "Anyway, I'm being silly. I don't know what Mom plans to do with the ring, and I hope I won't find out for a very very very long time." [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

(if: not ($inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater"))[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "Aunt Emily's sweater"))](if: $inv contains "vest")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "vest"))](if: $emilyflag is 0)[(set: $emilyflag to 1)]"I love your sweater," you say. She's wearing some kind of Fashion Sweater, a cream-colored oversized cable-knit cardigan trimmed with what you hope is faux rabbit fur. "This old thing?" Aunt Emily's whole face lights up. Aunt Emily loves clothes and makeup and jewelry and anything girly. When you were little, she used to buy you these elaborate dresses for Christmas and try to talk you and your parents into letting her curl your hair and get you all dolled up. You hated it. She gave up trying after the Great Hairspray Incident of 2009. You've never asked, but you guess that maybe she was a little sad she only ever had a boy and never had any daughters. You don't know why they stopped at one kid. Your Mom and Dad are pretty open with you, so you know that you're an only child because Mom wanted to get back to the courtroom and saving the environment ASAP. But Aunt Emily loves kids. She majored in child development and worked as a preschool teacher until she had Cody. She's been a stay-at-home mom ever since. You don't know why she never had any more kids. You're running around asking inappropriately personal questions to everyone in your family today, but that question is too personal even for you. "I love the... fur," you offer. "It's so fun. Is it warm?" "Try it on," she urges, shrugging it off immediately. "It's one size fits all." "Thank you! Here, so you don't get cold." You swap your puffy orange vest for her sweater. You are, for the moment, the proud owner of Aunt Emily's sweater and the contents of all its pockets. [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

(if: $inv contains "Aunt Emily's sweater")[(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "Aunt Emily's sweater"))](if: not ($inv contains "vest"))[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "vest"))]"Here, let me give you back your sweater," you say. "The sleeves are a little too long for me." You return Aunt Emily's sweater, with her phone nestled safely in the pocket. She gives you back your puffy orange vest. [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

(if: $emilyflag is 2)[(set: $emilyflag to 3)]"Have you ever borrowed Gran's ring?" you ask. "Either during this visit, or in the past?" "No, I don't think so. She's let me try it on once or twice, but I've never left the room with it." "Has anyone else ever borrowed Gran's ring?" "Not that I know of." Aunt Emily purses her lips in thought. "I know Mom is very trusting, but I don't think she'd let someone just walk off with a ring like that." You brace yourself. This is going to be bonkers. "If no one's ever borrowed the ring," you begin, "then I don't know how to explain this." You turn on your phone, opening up a thread on WeddingMe. A thread with pictures of Gran's ring. You watch Aunt Emily as she rapidly switches between expressions: slack-jawed shock, wrinkled-nose indignation, lip-trembling anxiety, and then slumped-shoulder acceptance. And then she looks up at you, her mascara-ringed eyes wide and helpless, and says nothing. That's as much as an admission, isn't it? You decide not to ask about the whole fake internet life thing. You're not even a little bit qualified to be Aunt Emily's therapist. Now that you think about it, you're not really qualified to be a detective either, but it's too late to stop now. "I don't want to pry into your business," you assure her. "I just need to know about the ring." "It started when I was a little girl," Aunt Emily admits. Her voice is half an octave lower than its customary pitch; you wonder if she's afraid of being overheard. "I always loved Mom's ring. So every year at Christmas, she would let me try it on and play pretend, like I was a princess or a bride. She always took it back at the end of the night, of course, but every year she would make sure that I got a little time to wear it." "And you took the photos?" "What's the harm in that?" She has a point. The photos are attached to old posts, none of them within the last few months. So it's weird, but it doesn't have an obvious connection to the ring going missing *now*. "Last night after dinner, you went into the parlor with Gran. Did she let you wear the ring then?" you ask. "No." Aunt Emily looks down at her hands in her lap and twists her own wedding set around her finger. She wears a perfectly normal ring set. It looks like gold and diamond, although unlike Aunt Emily's online persona, you can't tell the difference between diamond and moissanite. It occurs to you that she must be disappointed with her own ring, to be bragging online about a ring that doesn't belong to her. You even feel a little bad for Uncle Rick.(if: $rickflag is 2)[ This seems like exactly the sort of thing Mom meant when she said 'leverage.' You've made some progress there. (if: $codyflag is 4)[With this plus what you learned from Cody, you might be ready to talk to Uncle Rick.](else:)[Maybe there's still something you can learn from Cody before you talk to Uncle Rick.]] "I never had to ask; she always offered," Aunt Emily explains. "This year she didn't offer, and I didn't want to push. She's been a little sensitive lately—or haven't you noticed?" "Wait—is this the first year she didn't let you wear the ring? Since you were a kid?" Aunt Emily nods, and suddenly her eyes film with tears. "I just realized that I might never wear it again. I should never have let your dad talk me out of calling the police..." The whole thing is strange. Aunt Emily is as suspicious as ever; she obviously wants the ring, *badly*. But then, there's no direct evidence that she stole it, and if she were the thief, wouldn't she at least try to hide her motives? Plus, why would Gran not allow her to try on the ring this year? Why change a holiday tradition after decades? [[back|Talk to Aunt Emily?]]

"Hey, Gran. Are you okay?" you ask. "I've been better," she laughs. "But I've been worse too." [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"When was the last time you saw the ring?" you ask. "Oh—this is embarrassing. I always put it back in the box, and then I put the box back in the safe. But I don't remember doing that last night." "Do you ever take the ring off while you're wearing it?" "Yes—I take it off whenever I wash my hands. I'm sure I took it off a few times last night. But when I take it off, I always put it in the same place, right next to the soap, and I'm very careful to put it back on." She sighs and rubs her face. "Besides—your father and I already practically tore the bathroom to pieces looking for the ring." [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"Can you tell me what you did last night?" She nods slowly. "It's a good idea to retrace my steps from last night. I've already tried it, but it's nice of you to want to help. Before dinner, I dressed in my room. I took the ring out of the safe and put it on. I wore it down to dinner. Then we finished dessert around nine, didn't we?" "That's right." "After dessert, I went into the parlor to chat with Emily." "Did you go to the bathroom between then, or wash your hands?" "Honestly, these days, half the time I walk into a room, I don't remember what I went there for. I don't have a chance of remembering how many times I went to the bathroom yesterday." "How long did you and Aunt Emily talk?" "Oh, at least half an hour. After that..." Gran frowns with the effort of remembering. "I went through the dining room and the kitchen to make sure everything was in order for Christmas morning. Then I went up to my room, took a bath, and put on my nightgown. I only realized that the ring was missing when I saw its box empty on my desk." "Where do you think you might have left it?" "I could have left it in the bathroom or the kitchen. Or I could have put it away in the wrong place without thinking. Or it could have slipped off my finger anywhere. I just don't know. Thank you for helping look for it, sweetheart." [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"Why are you so sure no one took the ring?" you ask. "Sadie!" Gran shakes her head. "Because the seven people in this house are the seven people I love and trust most in the world. I wish you wouldn't poke around about this. There's *nothing* that could convince me that any of you took the ring." Maybe it would be better if you *did* let the whole thing drop. The ring is probably worth a ton, and it's not like the Lawson family has much of a fortune left, but Gran still has plenty to live on without it. Solving this mystery will only make Gran miserable, and maybe fracture the family forever. But can you and Gran and everyone really keep celebrating Christmas every year with someone who stole from her? With someone capable of stealing from their own family? Ignoring it won't make it go away. Plus, if you don't find the ring today, Aunt Emily will call the police, and Gran's going to like *that* even less. [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"Gran, what do you know about Irene's personal life?" you ask. "Well, that's a question out of left field. Why do you want to know?" "I just realized that I've known her for five years, and I don't know anything about her! It would be a little embarrassing to ask now..." "You know, she can be very private about some things," Gran says. "I think she lived here for two, three years before she ever showed me a photo of her family." "Family?" "Her parents are gone, I think, but she's close to her siblings and nieces and nephews back home. Writes lots of letters, has weekly video chats, tries to fly back once every few years." "No husband, no kids?" "I certainly don't think so—wouldn't that be a secret to keep!" "Must be lonely to have all her family so far away. Do you know if she has any friends in town?" "She might." Gran taps her fingers thoughtfully on her teacup. "She goes into town very often for errands, and on her days off... but I can't tell you what she does. I don't mean to sound like I don't care about her—of course I do, and of course I would love to hear all about her adventures in town, but she never offered, so I never asked. I don't want her to feel pressured." "She goes into town on her days off?" "Oh yes, religiously. I think sometimes she goes into town in the evenings, too, after I'm in bed. I'm in bed so early these days—and the house must be dull as dishwater for a woman still in the prime of her life." (Irene must be at least fifty, but you suppose that from Gran's perspective, she's still young.) "I'm glad she gets into town so often." Gran's intel about her housekeeper's personal life is surprisingly thin, but you feel as if you've got enough information to try again with Irene.(if: $ireneflag is 2)[(set: $ireneflag to 3)] [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"Why didn't you let Aunt Emily try on the ring last night?" you ask. "What?" Gran blinks. "Aunt Emily told me that you two have a Christmas tradition where you let her try on the ring. But she said you didn't mention it last night." "Oh—my goodness. She's right. I must have forgotten last night..." Gran bites her lip. "How thoughtless of me. Emily loves traditions; she'll take it hard..." Gran's face crumples. She looks unhappier about this than you would have expected. [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

(if: $granflag < 2)[(set: $granflag to 2)]"Do you have an insurance policy on the ring?" you ask. Gran stiffens slightly. "My—you're being thorough." But that's the only indication that she's realized you're investigating her too, and she catches herself quickly, and smiles, and reaches for her tea. "I'm not sure, but I suppose I might. I haven't checked recently. Your grandfather was in charge of those things while he was alive, and I've done my best to keep everything up to date." "Are you going to file an insurance claim for the ring?" "Well—certainly not immediately. It might still turn up." "And if it doesn't?" Gran frowns slightly. "I hadn't thought about it. I admit I wouldn't feel right about filing a claim when I lost the ring out of my own carelessness—but I suppose if it doesn't turn up, I'll have to consider it." That is what they call, in the detective business, a non-answer. [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"How are you doing, Dad?" you ask. "I'm all right. Although this isn't the best Christmas ever, is it?" "It's okay," you answer automatically, because you don't want his feelings to be hurt. Dad loves everything to do with Christmas, and you and Mom try your best to keep the magic alive for him. [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"When was the last time you saw the ring?" you ask. Dad taps his fingers on his knees, thinking before he answers. "You know, I don't remember precisely. I noticed it when Gran came down to dinner, because Emily commented on it." That's true; whenever Gran wears the ring, Aunt Emily admires it. But then, she comments on everyone's jewelry, the flashier the better. "But after that, I can't say that I was paying attention. Sorry, kiddo." [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"What did you do last night?" you ask. "After dinner? I went back to the room with Mom, and we watched a movie together." "What movie?" "*Die Hard*," he answers brightly. "It's Christmas, after all."(if: (history:) contains "MOM: What were you doing last night?")[ That's exactly what Mom said.](else:)[ You'll have to check that with Mom.] "When did you leave your room, and why?" "Gran knocked on the door and asked to talk to me. That was a little before midnight... maybe 11:45?" "So it's your assertion that you were in the guest room with Mom the whole time between dinner and 11:45?" "... wait a minute. Are you asking me for an *alibi*?" Dad sputters, and then he bursts out laughing. You don't particularly appreciate this; no one ever laughed at Sherlock Holmes. "You're a hoot. Well, you can ask Mom to confirm where I was, if you want." "Assuming you two aren't in on it together." "What? Sadie!" he laughs. He thinks you're joking, but you have to keep reminding yourself that it's not fair to assume that your parents are innocent just because they're your parents. You need to investigate them as seriously as anyone else in the house. [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"So, who do you think took the ring?" you ask, trying to sound casual. Dad glances over at the door to the foyer, as if he's making sure that Gran isn't nearby. "It's possible someone took it. I don't have any evidence, and neither do you, so..." He pauses and frowns at you. "Are you investigating, Sadie?" "Better me than the police, right?" You expect him to scold you and tell you to knock it off, but instead he just grabs a chocolate chip cookie and chews it while he thinks. "It's not necessarily a bad idea," he concedes. "If the ring is missing, we need to find it. And if the ring was stolen, then the best outcome is for the person responsible to return it to Gran before things get more serious." "I can help with that!" "Can you be discreet, Sadie?" "Of course!" "And if you find anything, you'll bring it to me or your mother right away?" he prompts. Naturally you can't do that, not if you're going to treat him and Mom as suspects. "I'll tell Gran. It's her ring, after all." "Fine," Dad agrees. "Don't get yourself into any trouble, okay?" [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"Why do you think someone would want to steal the ring?" you ask. "Hypothetically," he begins, "because we're not certain that the ring was stolen at all." "Right, hypothetically," you agree. "Hypothetically, Gran's ring has two kinds of value. Sentimental and material. So you'd be looking for someone who wants the ring because of its nature as a family heirloom, or someone who wants the ring because of its monetary value." That's a sensible beginning, but it's way too general. Who *doesn't* want money? "Do you know how much the ring is worth?" you ask. To your surprise, your dad draws back and frowns. "That's your grandmother's private information." "Do you know how much the ring is worth, *hypothetically*?" you attempt. "Sadie, I'm not joking around. I'm not going to talk about the monetary value of Gran's estate." (link-reveal:"Gran's estate?")[ Your Dad's Serious Voice is a little scary, but not scary enough to distract you from how weird he's acting. Why is he so stern all of a sudden? Why is he refusing to answer an obvious question that anyone would ask, if they were trying to solve this mystery? And why would he bring up Gran's *estate* out of the blue? Aunt Emily mentioned that too... You haven't lived with your father for fifteen years without figuring out his tells. The Serious Voice means that he's putting up a wall of authority, that he's hiding something from you.] "Then I guess I can't ask you who's going to inherit Gran's ring?" "That's none of my business, and it's certainly none of yours. Sadie, don't—" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't interrogate Gran about this, okay? She deserves her privacy." "You mean about her will, right?" you ask. "What if she brings it up?" "She's not going to bring it up." You don't know why he's so confident about that. He's definitely acting weird.(if: $dadflag is 0)[(set: $dadflag to 1)] [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"Who *knows* who is going to inherit Gran's ring?" you ask. You know that Dad won't tell you who is going to inherit Gran's ring. That doesn't matter now, since you already know. But he didn't say he wouldn't tell you who *else* knows. Dad groans. "I never realized, when I married a lawyer, that I would end up living with *two* lawyers." "I'm really just trying to help." "I know, Sadie." He rubs his face with both hands. "I'm the executor of Gran's will, and she's asked me to help her get things in order. Please don't run around talking to people about this," he adds. "It's not a secret, but anything to do with money can be a little uncomfortable in a family." "I'm being careful," you assure him. "I know you are, sweetpea. As far as I know, only Gran and I know the details of her will. I haven't told anyone—not even Mom. It's possible that Gran told someone without my knowledge, though." In other words, he can't be sure who knows. That's something you're going to have to keep an eye out for. [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"Mom mentioned that Gran offered you the ring to propose with," you begin. "Why didn't you take it?" "Wow, you've been poking around asking questions, haven't you? Two reasons. First, and most importantly, I thought your mom wouldn't wear it. Actually, I was kind of scared that if I proposed with some huge honker of an heirloom diamond, she would turn me down. Second, I wanted to propose with a ring I bought myself, something I chose by myself. I was the one proposing, not the Lawson family, you know?" "That's sweet." "Well, you know, I'm a romantic." [[back|Talk to Dad?]]

"Hi, Cody," you say. "I'm busy." "Yeah, I can see that." [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

"When did you last see the ring?" you ask. "I dunno." [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

"What did you do last night?" you ask. "I don't have to answer your questions." "I guess you don't." You pause to consider that seriously. "But everyone else is, so won't it look a little suspicious if you're the only one who doesn't help me?" "Whatever." He turns back to his game. Okay. It looks like you're not going to get very far by questioning Cody. You'd better find another way of gathering information about him. If only you could get him out of the attic long enough to search his stuff!(if: $codyflag is 0)[(set: $codyflag to 1)] [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

"Do you get an allowance from your parents?" you ask. The ring is worth a lot of money, so you're trying to figure out who might need some cash. "What?" That question makes him look up from his game. "Yeah right." "So how do you get pocket money? Do they pay you if you do chores or yardwork?" "Sorry, I don't live in your *Leave It To Beaver* universe. No, my father doesn't give me a shiny nickel when I mow the lawn." Ouch. You're sensing some hostility there. But delving into Cody's issues is probably a little above your paygrade. "So do you have a job?" He swears and rips off his headset. Presumably he just lost a game. "To have a job, you need a car. To have a car, you need a license. To have a license, you need parental consent. So no, I don't have a job." "Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick won't let you get a license?" you ask. You didn't mean to get sidetracked from the topic of the ring, but that is too weird to ignore. You've got months before your sixteenth birthday, but your dad is already quizzing you about the rules of the road every time you ride with him. "Why are you asking me about this?" He scowls at you. When he frowns, he looks a *lot* like Uncle Rick. It's a little scary. "You want to know how I get money. Why? You think I stole Gran's ring to pawn it for cash or something?" "I have to investigate all the possibilities." "Whatever." That is not, you notice, the same thing as a denial. [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

"Okay, who do you think took the ring?" you ask. "I dunno. How should I know *you* didn't take it?" "You can't know for sure. Go ahead and search my room if you want." "Yeah, I don't care. I bet Gran probably put it in her pocket and forgot all about it or something." [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

(if: $codyflag < 4)[(set: $codyflag to 4)]"Cody, I found the ring," you say carefully. You're honestly a little terrified. You know it was wrong to search through his stuff. You know he's going to be mad, and you know you deserve it. But if you tried to keep something like this secret, you'd just explode. For a moment he freezes. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and he answers, "What, Gran's ring? Where'd you find it?" "No, your ring. The one in your wallet." Slowly, he takes his hand off his mouse and pulls off his headset. He turns and looks at you; for a moment he's a carbon copy of Uncle Rick, his face almost purple with rage, but then the blood drains from his face and his eyes go blank. "Whatever," he says. "My father knows. You can't make things any worse for me than they already are."(if: $rickflag is 2)[ As heartless as it sounds, this probably constitutes the mother of all leverage over Uncle Rick. You're going to have to proceed with extreme caution. (if: $emilyflag is 3)[Since you already know Aunt Emily's secret, there's nothing left to do but talk to Uncle Rick. Yikes.](else:)[Maybe you should talk to Aunt Emily first, see if there's anything you can learn from her before you talk to Uncle Rick.]] "*I* didn't know. Cody, are you—are you okay?" "I just have to wait until I'm eighteen. There are exactly four hundred and thirty-three days left." "Gran could take you in. Oh my god—my mom and dad would take you in in a *heartbeat* if they knew." "What, you think I can just pack my bags and leave? You think minors can choose where they live?" You haven't ever considered it before. You guess they probably can't. "Please don't make this a big thing. It's not your business," he mutters. He's right, of course—it's his right to deal with this in his own way. It's kind of presumptuous for you to snoop through his belongings, unearth his deepest secret, and then start planning to totally rearrange his life for him. Even though you still wish you could. "Yeah. Sorry." "Don't talk to my parents about this, okay? They want to keep it a secret. Dad doesn't want anyone to know his son's gay, obviously. And..." He frowns at his lap. "They think I haven't had any contact with him since they made me switch schools. They have spyware all over my phone and computer so we can't text. A friend of mine lets us send letters through her. If they find out we're still talking, I probably get to go to one of those troubled teen wilderness programs where they beat the Jesus into you. So do me a favor and shut up, okay?" You wish you could do something about this. You wish you could say sorry in a meaningful way, not just for snooping through his stuff but also for not paying attention to him, for years, for never really bothering to wonder why he was so unhappy, for never even trying to reach out. But you don't know how. And there's not actually anything you can do to help. So instead you just shut up, like he asked you to. [[back|Talk to Cody?]]

"When did you last see the ring?" you ask. "Sorry, sweetie—I can't say that I was paying attention. Eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, you know." "I know, Mom." [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

"What were you doing last night?" you ask. "What, after dinner? Your dad and I went up to our room and watched a movie." "What movie?" "Ah—you're checking our alibis against each other, aren't you? Very good. It was *Die Hard*, which your father incorrectly believes is a Christmas movie." (if: (history:) contains "DAD: What did you do last night?")[That's good; your parents are telling the same story about what they did last night.](else:)[You'll have to double-check that with Dad.] "And?" "Late in the evening—I don't remember exactly when, but it was after the movie was over, so it must have been after eleven—Gran knocked on the door and asked for your father. He was back after... just a few minutes?" Your mom is maybe the smartest person you know, but she can be a little selective about what information she retains. She forgot her own birthday once. Whatever information she has about last night, it's only marginally useful. "Did he tell you why Gran wanted to talk to him?" "He told me the ring was missing, yes." [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

"You don't ever wear an engagement ring. Do you have one?" you ask. Mom and Dad have matching plain gold bands, but Mom doesn't have an engagement ring. A lot of your friends' mothers wear something pretty sparkly. "What? Am I a suspect?" Mom asks you, raising her eyebrows at you in a particularly lawyerly way. "Everyone's a suspect, right?" "Well—I guess I can't argue with that. And you started off with a good question, too, not too direct, trying not to make me defensive." "I can see it didn't work." "It'll probably work on your dad," she teases. "Anyway, I do have an engagement ring. I don't wear it because it's sentimental and not very durable. Your dad proposed with the most beautiful rosewood ring, but wooden rings don't hold up as well under daily wear, so I don't want to risk damaging it. I can't believe I've never showed it to you; we'll look at it together when we go home, okay?" "Gran's ring is an heirloom, though. Isn't the point of an heirloom that you pass it on to the next generation?" "You mean, did I want Gran's ring for myself?" Mom raises her eyebrows. "According to your father, she actually offered it. Once we were getting serious, apparently, she asked him if he wanted to propose with the family ring. He said no thanks, it wouldn't suit my taste."(if: $momflag is 0)[(set: $momflag to 1)] "So Dad turned it down *for* you. But did you want it?" Mom makes That Face, the face of ultimate disapproval. Usually she saves it for when you throw something recyclable in the trash. "Sadie, you know me. Am I the kind of person who could walk around town wearing a giant diamond? I could never have worn that ring—never." "Why didn't Gran give the ring to Aunt Emily when she got engaged, then? I think she would definitely have worn it." "Sexism, probably," Mom answers cheerfully. "This is just a guess, so take it with a grain of salt, but Gran can be a little old-fashioned about some things. The ring came from the Lawson family, and if it goes to a son and daughter-in-law, it stays in the Lawson family. But even though Emily's her own daughter, she's a Walker now, so technically it's 'outside the family.' The patriarchy isn't pretty, is it?" "Who do you think is going to inherit the ring, then?" "No idea. Cody's not a Lawson, and Gran probably thinks you're not going to carry on the *family name* either, so..." Mom shrugs. "Anyway, you know it's in poor taste to speculate about inheritances before someone's dead, right? You're certainly not going to ask Gran that question, I hope." [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

(if: $granflag is 0)[(set: $granflag to 1)]"What will happen if the police come?" you ask. "You know I'm not that kind of lawyer, honey," Mom sighs. Mom is an environmental lawyer who fights to protect wildlife habitats and stuff. She's the best. And she *really* hates it when people ask her about divorce law or criminal law or whatever. "I know, but..." You make your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. Mom groans and relents. "I imagine they'll take statements from people and make a report. They're not likely to do anything more than that unless they have a reason to. Emily's actually right, although for the wrong reasons," she adds. "What do you mean?" "A ring like that is certainly insured. So if it's stolen or maybe even lost, depending on the insurance, Gran might be able to get the value of the ring back. And the insurance company will want a police report." You hadn't even thought about insurance. "Wait—are you saying that if Gran loses the ring, insurance will just *give* her a hundred thousand dollars?" you ask. At breakfast, Aunt Emily said the ring was worth something like a hundred thousand dollars.(if: $emilyflag >= 2)[ Plus she posted on WeddingMe that 'her' ring was worth that much.] Aunt Emily is prone to exaggeration, but no one's contradicted her yet. Mom shrugs. "I'm not sure exactly what the ring is worth, but if she has the right kind of policy, yes, the insurance should reimburse her for the value of the lost item. An heirloom like Gran's engagement ring should have its own jewelry insurance." "How do they know you actually lost the jewelry, and you're not just lying for the insurance money?" "Well, because that's called insurance fraud, and you can go to jail for it. Insurance companies have their own investigators for that." The insurance thing is a little dry, but it's opened up a whole new angle on the case of the missing ring. You hate to admit it, but it means Gran is now a suspect too. She could have 'stolen' her own ring for the insurance payment. You don't *think* she would do something like that, and you don't *think* she needs the cash—but you have to acknowledge that you're not sure, and she's a suspect now. Just like all the rest of you. [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

(if: $dadflag < 3)[(set: $dadflag to 3)]"Do you and Dad have any money problems?" you ask, cringing. Dad knows that he's not inheriting anything from Gran. That's a powerful financial motive for stealing the ring. You know you're supposed to suspect everyone, but honestly, you'd like to rule him out. And you can't ask him directly. Even asking Mom about your parents' finances is kind of a bad idea; you're probably about to get scolded. But Mom doesn't look offended. She just smiles, reaches over, and pats your hand. "Your father and I are very lucky. We've got two incomes, one kid, and a mostly paid-off mortgage. We've got nothing to complain about. Although I hope you'll apply to some scholarships for college—it's not like we have a suitcase full of gold buried in the backyard..." "Wow," you say. "I kind of thought I would have to jump through some hoops to get the answer to that question. Like trick you into answering it or search through your suitcase or something." Mom gives you a long sideways look. "Why would you think that?" "No reason!" [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

"When did you last see the ring, Uncle Rick?" you ask. "I have no idea, Sadie," he answers. "I don't pay attention to that sort of thing. Why don't you ask a woman?" For the record, this is why he's your least favorite uncle. [[back|Talk to Uncle Rick?]]

"What were you doing last night?" you ask. "Why do you ask?" Uncle Rick volleys back. "I'm trying to trace everyone's movements last night, see if I can figure out what might have happened to the ring." Uncle Rick frowns: his face reddens slightly, his jowls quiver. When you were a little kid, you used to be terrified of him. Your parents didn't believe in yelling or spanking; you'll never forget the first time you saw Uncle Rick turn Cody over his knee for some trivial misbehavior, a spilled cup of milk or an overturned chair or something like that. Now you're old enough to see that Uncle Rick is more ridiculous than scary. But you still don't like it when he makes that face. "You'd better leave that for the police," he scolds you. "You're a child. It's not up to you to solve this." "Well, I'm trying anyway," you insist. "Can you just tell me what you did after dinner last night? I'm making a list of where everyone was." "I was right here," he answers grudgingly. "After dinner, I came upstairs, washed up, went to bed. I was here until the morning. Happy now?" He's probably telling the truth about that. Uncle Rick isn't a small guy, and you would have heard him last night if he'd been clomping up and down the stairs. "When did Aunt Emily come upstairs?" "Bit later. I think she was talking to your grandmother downstairs for a while."(if: (history:) contains "EMILY: What did you do last night?")[ "Did she leave the room at any point after she came up?" "Nope." Aunt Emily told you herself that she was in and out of the guest room, or wandering around the house, for a while around ten last night. Uncle Rick is lying. Maybe he's covering for her. Maybe he was watching TV, not paying attention. Maybe he's just refusing to tell you the details out of stubbornness, because he thinks it's none of your business. With Uncle Rick, it's a little hard to tell.] That was not hugely helpful. [[back|Talk to Uncle Rick?]]

"Who do you think took the ring?" you ask. Uncle Rick just shakes his head. "I'm not going to point fingers, and neither should you. Let the police figure it out tomorrow." [[back|Talk to Uncle Rick?]]

phonerecord 0: initial state 1: your phone is in the parlor, recording Dad and Gran’s conversation 2: your phone has the recording of Dad and Gran’s conversation, but you haven’t listened to it yet 3: you have listened to Dad and Gran’s conversation phonenotes 0: initial 1: your investigation has started and you can access your notes granflag 0: initial 1: you know that Gran takes the ring off when she washes her hands dadflag 0: initial 1: Dad is acting secretive about Gran’s estate 2: You know that Dad is handling Gran’s estate momflag 0: initial 1: you know that Gran offered the ring, and Dad turned it down emilyflag 0: initial 1: you have Emily's phone, but you haven't searched it yet 2: you have read Emily’s posts on WeddingMe 3: you have talked to Emily about WeddingMe rickflag codyflag ireneflag 0: initial 1: You know Irene made the footsteps in the snow 2: Irene refuses to explain why she left the house last night 3: Gran told you that Irene goes into town a lot 4: You know Irene left the house to see her boyfriend

(if: $rickflag < 2)[(set: $rickflag to 2)]"Can you give me any advice about questioning an uncooperative witness?" you ask. "I see the investigation's going smoothly," Mom teases. "Well—witnesses can be uncooperative for different reasons. It doesn't necessarily mean they're guilty. Maybe they think the investigation is pointless, or they lack faith in the investigator." "Ouch!" "It happens to professionals too," she assures you. "Who's been giving you trouble?" "Mainly, it's Uncle Rick. Everyone else I think I can figure out a way to get through to, but Uncle Rick... it's like it doesn't matter what I say." "Yeah, it probably doesn't," Mom answers cheerfully. "Think about who Rick is. What he values. How he sees the world. How he treats different kinds of people." You don't know a lot about Uncle Rick as an individual, his motivations or beliefs or whatever. But you do see (link-reveal: "how he treats people")[. He's pretty respectful to Gran; she's his mother-in-law, and old enough that he can't throw his weight around with her. He's obnoxious to Mom, but more or less friendly to Dad. He treats Aunt Emily sort of like a pet poodle: pampered and indulged, but only to an extent, and everyone knows who's the boss there. And Cody, he treats like he's an extension of himself, like because he's his father, he has the right to make all the decisions about his life]. "Uncle Rick has a ladder," you say slowly, thinking out loud. "Sort of a—what should I call it? Like a hierarchical worldview. Men outrank women. The older generation outranks the younger generation. Parents outrank children. Don't you think so?" "I think that's a fair assessment," Mom answers, rubbing her nose thoughtfully. "So where do you think you fall on his hierarchy?" "Oh my god! I'm all the way at the bottom, aren't I?" "Yep, I'd say so. You're a young female person, after all. *Maybe* you outrank Irene, because she's technically an employee." Mom grimaces. "Okay, this has been thought-provoking and horrible, but it doesn't help me with my problem. Should I just send Dad in to ask questions *for* me? Would Uncle Rick talk to *him*?" "Don't give up so easily." Mom's eyes sparkle. "Think about it this way: right now, it would be a blow to his ego to talk to you. It would mean acknowledging that you're doing something about Gran's missing ring while he's sitting on his *tuchus*. So you need to put yourself in a position where it would be a bigger ego-injury for him *not* to talk to you." "How?" "Give him a reason to talk to you. Make him defend himself. Not necessarily about the ring—frankly, I don't think it's *that* likely he stole it—but about anything. Find a weakness. Press directly on that weakness. You just need some leverage, that's all." The idea of arguing with Uncle Rick makes you feel the same way you feel before going onstage at your piano recitals: the bottom of your stomach drops out. "Is that really going to be okay?" you ask. "I mean, what if I offend him and he hates me forever? I have to see him at Christmas every year." "I have full confidence that you can find a discreet, sensible, empathetic way of handling him." Mom reaches over and squeezes your shoulder. "Look—don't underestimate yourself. You're smart and brave enough to handle someone like Uncle Rick. Right?" Sometimes Mom knows just the right thing to say. She's kind of the best. [[back|Talk to Mom?]]

(if: $rickflag < 3)[(set: $rickflag to 3)]"It must be hard for you," you say. Your voice is shaking a little. "What?" Your Mom told you to find leverage on Uncle Rick, to push him to talk to you. But that would mean talking about Cody's secret, or Aunt Emily's unhappiness, and that wouldn't be fair to them. So you'll need to try a different tactic. "Being the head of the household. Handling a wife and child. It must be a lot." He laughs at you. "Oh, aren't you grown-up? Thinking about things like that." "It's probably hard to keep them happy." "It's not my job to keep them happy. It's my job to provide for them. It's in the Bible, you know. Well. I guess you don't know." You are not going to take the bait. "It can't be easy to support a family on one income," you press. And you think of Aunt Emily, and her three-dollar lipstick, and her online fantasy life as a wealthy Manhattanite. "Is that what your parents say about us?" he growls. "Lighthouse Boys' Academy is private, right? That must be expensive." You saw Cody's school ID in his wallet. You wonder how much money Uncle Rick is paying to keep his son away from his secret boyfriend and all the other bad influences in public school. "Cody doesn't understand either, but he will when *he* has a wife and children," Uncle Rick says loudly. As if he's trying to convince himself. "He has no idea that his misbehavior is costing me twenty thousand a year." "Why not have Aunt Emily work?" you ask. Uncle Rick sets his jaw. "The Bible says," he repeats, "that a man who doesn't provide for his family is worse than an unbeliever." *Unbeliever!* How delightfully medieval of him. But he's serious, he's absolutely serious about this. To you, Uncle Rick and Aunt Emily's Christian stuff has always been kind of funny; your family is interfaith and doesn't take religion too seriously. You've never really considered Uncle Rick's worldview, never tried to imagine what it would be like to live by those rules. But he actually means it, doesn't he? All of it. "The whole point of providing for the family is that she doesn't have to work," Uncle Rick insists. "She *shouldn't* have to." You've always disliked Uncle Rick for his shoulds and shouldn'ts. He has such strong opinions about what his wife should and shouldn't do, and it's a little gross to you. And now that you know the price Cody is paying for being a *shouldn't*, you're madder than ever. But Uncle Rick plays by those same rules, doesn't he? He believes he *should* be able to support his family. You're not exactly a financial planning expert, but you know there is just no way he has a spare twenty thousand a year for Cody's tuition. You have no idea how he's making it work, or how long he can keep making it work. But, knowing all this, it's not a surprise that he's wound a little tight. "It must be hard for you," you say again, stupidly, except this time you mean it. You wouldn't trade places with Uncle Rick for anything. He looks at you, then, as if he suddenly remembers who you are. And that he didn't mean to tell you quite as much as he did. "Let's not discuss this with your Aunt Emily or your cousin, okay?" he mutters, attempting to gather the shreds of his avuncular dignity around him once again. "Of course not, Uncle Rick," you say. Well—now you understand Uncle Rick a little more than you ever have before. He's got money troubles, which should be a strong motive for theft. Gran's ring would cover Cody's tuition and more. But if he's too proud even to let his wife get a part-time job, would he really be willing to steal from an old lady? His own mother-in-law? Uncle Rick is a jerk. Sexist and homophobic and generally unpleasant to be around. But most of all, he's inflexible. It's not like you agree with his moral code, but as far as you know, he follows that code without wavering. Even when it hurts him. It's hard to believe he'd make an exception for theft. [[back|Talk to Uncle Rick?]]

"Can you tell me about the ring?" you ask Gran. "I know it's an heirloom, but I don't really know where it came from. Is there a story behind it?" "Oh—I guess I haven't done a great job as Lawson family historian, have I?" Gran sighs. "I wish your grandfather were here to tell you all about it." She makes herself comfortable in her armchair and gazes at the family photos lined up in a row on the mantel, above a line of Christmas stockings. "You know about your great-grandfather, William Lawson Senior, don't you?" "The one in the painting in the foyer?" "Yep, that's the one. The short version of the story is that *his* father bought the quarry, but he was the one who made a fortune out of it. Well, a modest fortune, but more than enough for the time. He bought this ring to propose to your great-grandmother, back in the twenties. Gosh, that's nearly a hundred years ago now..." Gran shakes her head. "Anyway, when your grandfather proposed to me, his mother offered him the ring. You remember your grandfather; he was so proud, he didn't like to take anything from anyone, especially not his family—but I suppose he made an exception for the ring. "We were a funny sight as newlyweds, I bet—living in that shoebox of an apartment, me mending your grandfather's socks and undershirts because we couldn't afford to buy new, and wearing that great big diamond! Back then, I didn't even have a safe to put it in." Gran loves talking about the years when she and Grandpa were young and poor, back when he was just starting out as a teacher, before they inherited the house. "How come you two had such a hard time back then? If Great-Grandpa Lawson was so wealthy?" you ask. "Your great-grandfather, William Lawson Senior, sent your grandfather to college and expected him to come home and work in the family business. His son was an investment, and he expected a return. When your grandfather had a different idea, they quarreled. Didn't even speak for... oh, quite a number of years. Your grandfather would never have asked his father for money, not after that. He could be proud." Gran's eyes soften with memory. "If Great-Grandpa was so mad at Grandpa, why did he give him the ring?" "Ah, well, he didn't; your great-grandmother gave it to him directly. A personal present. And the engagement ring was legally her property, so even if your great-grandfather had wanted to stop her, he couldn't. "They did reconcile, you know, nearer the end of your great-grandfather's life. After he had some time to get over being mad at his son for leaving home. "There were some really lean years in there. Your grandfather wasn't making much, and then we had two little babies and I stayed home to take care of them... Your grandfather had grown up in the wealthiest family in town, didn't know a thing about pinching pennies. But we made it work. I honestly don't know how, but we made it work." Gran's face twitches in a quick, sad smile. "Your grandfather was one of a kind. I wish you'd had a chance to really get to know him." Grandpa died when you were ten, and you remember all the fun you had together: finger-painting and berry-picking and snowball fights, even though he was an old man. But you were just a kid when he died, and you'd never thought to talk to him about this sort of stuff. "He thought you hung the moon," Gran continued. "He would have loved to see you grow up. He would have loved to see you now." [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

You walk through the foyer on your way to the dining room. The portrait of William Lawson Senior glowers down at you, as if you've done something wrong. You hesitate there, transfixed by his frown and the chill from the slate floor. This will be your last quiet moment to yourself before Christmas dinner—which you *know* is going to be a mess. So this is your chance, just like Poirot in the last few chapters of a Christie novel, to review the case as you understand it. First, the motives: (link-reveal:"Mom")[: As far as you can tell, she doesn't have a real motive to steal the ring. It's not her style, and she says she doesn't need the money]. (link-reveal:"Dad")[: Turns out he was being secretive about Gran's estate because he's the executor of her will. Which means he knows he's not inheriting anything. Could give him a motive to steal the ring for money, but if Mom is telling the truth, then he doesn't need the money either]. (link-reveal:"Aunt Emily")[: She obviously loves the ring like Gollum. If she stole it, she'd hoard it, not sell it. And who knows, maybe she's decided that Gran's never going to give it to her, so she might as well steal it. But then again, if she had taken it, you're not sure she could have restrained herself from posting a sparkly photoshoot on WeddingMe ASAP]. (link-reveal:"Uncle Rick")[: Of everyone in the house, his money problems are the most serious. And the ring could solve them. On the other hand, you think he's too proud or too morally rigid to steal. Probably]. (link-reveal:"Cody")[: He has no money, no autonomy, and is literally counting down the days until his eighteenth birthday. It's not impossible that he stole the ring, planning to pawn it when he leaves home. But you really don't want to believe that]. (link-reveal:"Irene")[: She sends money back to her relatives in the Philippines, so you know she could make good use of the ring. But she's a lousy liar; you doubt she could effectively conceal a theft like this. Besides, she's been Gran's best friend for five years. Gran trusts her implicitly, and you hope she's not wrong]. (link-reveal:"And finally, Gran herself")[: If the ring were insured, it would be possible she staged the loss of the ring to collect insurance money. But her safe contains pretty decent evidence that the ring hasn't been insured for decades, so that can't be her motive. Still, Gran is hiding something; you just don't know what]. Next, you consider who had the opportunity to steal the ring. The ring went missing last night, sometime after Gran and Aunt Emily's meeting in the parlor after dinner. Aunt Emily showed you a photo of Gran still wearing the ring, timestamped 9:55 PM. And Gran reported it missing to Dad around 11:45 PM. You saw them talking around that time with your own eyes. So the ring disappeared between 9:55 and 11:45 last night. You're not sure where: Gran was moving all through the first and second floors then. (link-reveal:"Where was everyone in the house at that time?")[ Mom and Dad are each others' alibis. They both say they were watching *Die Hard* in bed until Gran came looking for Dad. Either your parents are engaged in a joint criminal venture, or they're innocent. And really—they're probably innocent. Which is a relief. Aunt Emily was the last person, other than Gran, to see the ring. That in itself is a little suspicious. She also reports moving all over every floor of the house last night. She could have swiped the ring from anywhere at any time. Uncle Rick claims to have been in the guest room after dinner until the morning. No one else reports seeing him outside the guest room, and frankly, he's not exactly a svelte ninja. Someone would have heard him stomping around. Cody was, as far as anyone knows, up in the attic all night. No one reports seeing him downstairs. Irene was moving freely around the downstairs last night after dinner. Of course she was; that's her job. But she's also uniquely suspicious because she's the only one who left the house last night. She gave you a reasonable explanation for it, but that doesn't change that she's the only one who could have plausibly removed the ring from the house already. Technically, Gran was the one with the best opportunity to steal the ring. She could have done it absolutely undetected, whenever she wanted. No alibi for her.] Looking at it all together, it looks like Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick have the strongest motives. And Aunt Emily, Irene, and of course Gran had the best opportunities to steal the ring. But if you've learned anything from all those mystery novels you've been reading over winter break, it's that the true culprit is never the most obvious suspect. Is that how it works in real life too? You're about to find out. You take a deep breath, avert your eyes from the disapproving portrait of William Lawson Senior, and [[enter the dining room]].

Irene has fixed up the dining room for a formal Christmas dinner: the Christmas china, an elaborate holly centerpiece, and lamb and stuffing and roast potatoes and everything good. Gran sits at the head of the table. She likes to dress up for these big holiday meals, and she's in a green cashmere turtleneck with her pearls on. She's wearing a thin layer of powder, which she only does for special occasions, but even so she looks older than you remember her. Older than yesterday. But she smiles and holds her chin high like a queen. "Merry Christmas, everyone," she says, as if nothing unusual had happened. "I feel so lucky to have all my favorite people gathered around the table." For a while everyone keeps themselves busy passing dishes and concentrating on the food and occasionally complimenting the chef, but conversation is thin, and it's obvious. No one can muster even the most vacuous attempt at small talk. "These potatoes are fantastic, Irene," Mom says, making an attempt. "So crispy." Irene bobs her head nervously. The silence around the table is so taut you could pop it with a pin. "I'm going to call the police first thing tomorrow morning," Aunt Emily announces. "Emily, no more of that. Or you'll have to leave the table," Gran commands, as if Aunt Emily is ten years old. Dad glances at you, as if hoping that you can come through with your investigation and put an end to this. And you can... right? "You won't have to call the police," you say. Your voice is louder than you expected, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You're not used to having everyone listen to you. "I know who took the ring." Gran grips her fork tightly but doesn't object. No one argues, actually, not even Uncle Rick. Even Cody looks up from his plate for this. The room swims a little: stage fright. But there's no avoiding this now, not after you've spent all day playing detective, rummaging through your family's dirty laundry. You take a deep breath and plunge ahead: "The person who stole the ring is..." [[Mom.]] [[Dad.]] [[Aunt Emily.]] [[Uncle Rick.]] [[Cody.]] [[Irene.]] [[Gran.]] [[No one.]]

(set: $goodjob to 1)"I think—" You hesitate. This is hard to say out loud. "I think Gran took her own ring." "Sadie!" Dad almost jumps out of his chair. "Sadie, that's not appropriate. I don't know why you'd say something like that, but—" "Don't yell at your daughter, Jack," Gran interrupts, standing up right there at the table. "Especially not when she's right." A horrible hush falls over the table. Everyone—even Cody—is staring at Gran. (display: "Gran explains")

"I don't think anyone stole the ring at all," you announce. A hush falls over the table. "I've talked to everyone in the house today. I know everyone's movements last night, and I interviewed everyone about their potential motives. I searched every room. And it just doesn't add up to anything, in the end. I don't think any one of you took it. Jewelry *does* disappear sometimes; I mean, it's small, so..." "Sadie, don't be ridiculous—a ring like that just going *missing*—" Aunt Emily protests. "It's not impossible, Emily," Mom interrupts. "I know it's frustrating. I know we want a reason or an explanation for something like this, but there isn't always one. Did you know that the most common jewelry insurance claim is called 'mysterious disappearance'? I looked it up." "Why were you looking up jewelry insurance?" Aunt Emily blazes. "Don't you think that's a little suspicious?" Uncle Rick rests his hand on top of Aunt Emily's. "*Dear*," he rumbles. And she collapses into tears. Poor Aunt Emily! The ring meant so much to her. "Mysterious disappearance," Gran echoes with a faint smile. "That's just it. I don't know if it slipped down a drain or is sitting in a pocket somewhere or what. I hope it'll turn up, but..." She shrugs. "The ring doesn't matter. It's just a *thing*, and I couldn't bear it if it came between us. "You're my precious family—*all* of you," she adds, looking at Irene. "I'm just lucky to have you all here with me this Christmas. Let's not worry about the ring another minute, all right?" Christmas dinner continues. Uncle Rick starts talking about Jesus in a way that makes Mom drink three glasses of wine, and Aunt Emily whimpers about the loss of the ring to a consoling Gran, and Dad gets seconds of everything and tells Irene that she's a culinary genius. And Cody, miraculously, smiles at you for a nanosecond. On her way out of the dining room, Gran pauses to squeeze your shoulders and kiss your cheek. "You're a wonderful detective, sweetheart," she whispers. "Thank you." [[You follow her to the parlor.]]

You settle down on the couch in the parlor with Gran. "You know, don't you?" she asks. "I suspected." She glances up at the door, making sure that it's closed, and then reaches in her pocket. When she opens her closed fist, it's there on her palm: the Lawson family ring, glittering and heavy and perfectly safe. You can't help but stare. You've been chasing that ring all day, and it was in Gran's pocket the whole time. "You—but it—*huh*," you manage. Gran laughs and hands the ring to you. "You can try it on, if you like." You slip the ring onto your left ring finger. It's a little loose and very heavy. You feel ridiculous wearing such an ostentatious diamond, but also a little fabulous. "*Huh*," you repeat, still somewhat at a loss for words. "So you stole your own ring. What was your plan?" you ask. "I thought—oh, Sadie, it's embarrassing to be my age and be so *wrong* about something," Gran bursts out. "I thought I could say I lost the ring, and that would be an end of it. We'd all be sorry about it, and then the ring would disappear into family legend. I never *imagined* that Emily would accuse Irene. How ghastly." "Why didn't you do it when no one else was around?" "I only wear the ring twice a year. I thought it would seem more natural if I lost it at a time when I would usually wear it. I wanted to make it all seem normal, you see." It really never occurred to her that anyone in the house would suspect theft. Gran can be surprisingly innocent. "And why did you want the ring to disappear?" you ask. "I think you've already put most of it together. I've been trying to get my affairs in order before—well, I'm not young, am I, Sadie? And while I was getting my will together, I got the ring appraised." Gran glances down at the ring on your finger. "It turns out the center stone is a lovely, high-quality cubic zirconia. The setting is still platinum and the side diamonds are still real, but the center stone was most of the ring's value, and now it's worth about thirty dollars." You stare at Gran, and she just smiles. "At first I didn't know what to think, but when I went through all your grandfather's old papers, and I saw that the ring hadn't been re-appraised or insured since 1980, I could guess what happened. 1980 was when your father went off to college, and Aunt Emily went just two years later. Your grandfather somehow managed to scrape together enough to cover their tuitions like he'd always wanted to—but I never knew how." "And now we know?" you ask. "Now we know," Gran agrees. "At first I couldn't believe he didn't tell me. I thought we told each other everything—" She pauses to wipe her eyes. "He must have been so ashamed, to try to hide this from me. His father, your Great-Grandpa Lawson, was always so hard on him, about how foolish he was to live hand to mouth as an art teacher instead of just crawling back home to work for the quarry. Tried to make him feel like a failure. He wanted to pay for his kids to go to school the way his own father had paid for him, and he had to pawn an heirloom to do it..." Gran shakes her head. "I wish he'd told me. Of course I would have understood. But it must have been too painful for him. "I don't believe your grandfather ever lied or hid the truth from me about anything but this," she continues. "And if it was that important to him to keep it a secret, then I owe it to him to protect that secret. "Thank you for letting this all finish quietly." Gran pats the back of your hand. "I appreciate it. Your grandfather would appreciate it too." You think back to everything you've learned today. Dad knows that he and Aunt Emily aren't going to inherit, and he's keeping quiet about it. You're certainly never going to say a word about what you learned about Gran's will. Aunt Emily has a whole shadow life on the internet, where she can pretend to be young and glamorous and married to a wealthy man who spoils her, and if you told Uncle Rick, you would absolutely shatter him. Uncle Rick is trying to bear the financial burden entirely alone, and it's a strain on him, and it's also nowhere near your business to tell his wife or son what he's going through. He's got his pride, at least, and it would be cruel to take that from him. Cody's still getting letters from his secret boyfriend, and you would bite off your own tongue before you'd ever tell his parents about that. Irene has her reasons for wanting to keep her perfectly nice-looking boyfriend private. You can't blame her for wanting to carve out a space just for herself. And now you finally know Gran and Grandpa's secret. "I won't tell anyone about the ring," you assure her. "Not even Mom and Dad." "Will you take it, sweetheart?" Gran asks. "I don't know what to do with it now. If I keep it anywhere in the house, it'll just be found after I die, and then someone will appraise it and this will have all been for nothing. But I can't bring myself to just... toss it. It's still the Lawson family ring, after all, and—and—to me, it's worth more now than it ever was before." "I'll never be able to wear it," you protest. "I'll just have to keep it hidden away my whole life." "Maybe you'll have a chance to wear it one day," Gran says, "and even if you don't, you'll have it with you, and you'll know its story." You take the ring off your finger and slide it carefully into the pocket of your jeans. You have a few good hiding places at home where Mom and Dad will never find it. "Our secret," Gran beams. "Just between you, me, and your grandfather." Grandpa died when you were ten; you were too young to have thought about asking him questions about his life or stuff like that. It feels kind of good to share a secret like this with him, even though he's gone. Like you have a special connection. Gran kisses your cheek and sits next to you in silence for a long time, holding your hand in hers. The lights are twinkling on the Christmas tree; the fire in the fireplace is burning low. This has been an unusual Christmas. It's had more than its fair share of drama and disaster. But at the end of the day, you learned a lot about your family—especially Gran and Grandpa. You became the keeper of a piece of Lawson family history. And you solved a mystery, even if the rest of your family doesn't know it. Not a bad Christmas, all things considered. =><= (color: red)[***The End***]

"Can I look inside your safe?" you ask. "Excuse me?" "That's where you usually keep the ring, isn't it? I'd like to double-check that whole area, make sure the ring didn't just fall into a crack or something." "I've already checked there, sweetheart. The ring isn't inside." "Still, I'd like to be able to search everywhere..." "I keep all sorts of private paperwork in there. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don't share the combination with anyone." "I know, but I have a theory I need to confirm," you tell her, squirming with awkwardness. The theory, of course, is that she is concealing something about the ring and its insurance. When you asked her about a jewelry insurance policy, she acted like she wasn't sure she had one. But you have a recording of her talking to your dad and saying that she's been going through all of Grandpa's old paperwork, including insurance. "Sadie." She takes your hand. "Leave this, please. For my sake. I don't mean just my safe—I mean all of it." "Aunt Emily's going to call the police tomorrow. She's probably going to tell them Irene took it," you point out. "And I'll tell them that it's all nonsense—why, I don't have to let them in the house if I don't want to, do I?" Gran frowns. "I'll ask your mother about that." "It'll be better for Irene and everyone if we figure out what happened quickly, without involving the police. I'm scared about what happens to the family if things blow up." "*No one stole the ring*," Gran insists, raising her voice. "How do you know that?" "Because I trust everyone in this house. Because—" Gran squeezes her eyes shut. For a moment she looks so fragile, like she might just blow away on the wind. You regret having asked; you regret looking into this at all. It's her ring, after all, and if she doesn't want to investigate, why should you push her? But then Gran sighs, shakes her head, and is herself again: looking rather peeved, but solid as a boulder. She reaches into her pocket for the pen and index cards she always keeps there. (She likes to make lists.) She writes a few digits on a card and presses it into your hand. "All right, Sadie. Here's the combination. I hope I can trust you not to pry."(if: not ($inv contains "safe combination"))[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "safe combination"))](if: $granflag < 3)[(set: $granflag to 3)] [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

(if: $granflag < 5)[(set: $granflag to 5)]"There's something that doesn't make sense to me," you begin. But you don't know how to say 'you told me one thing and told Dad another,' not right to Gran's face. It's especially awkward because it involves admitting to eavesdropping. So instead you say, "It looks like Grandpa stopped renewing the insurance for the ring around 1980." "Oh—that's possible," Gran says mildly. "I suppose I'll have to check on that. There were so many things to keep up with, you know, running a house and a family. He might well have forgotten about it." It seems enormously unlikely that Gran wasn't aware of that. Those papers were neatly organized in an envelope with her handwriting on it. And you know she's been specifically working on getting her affairs in order. "Gran, is there anything you want to tell me?" you ask her. "Oh, Sadie. You aren't a little girl anymore, are you?" she murmurs, and she pats the back of your hand. She's smiling, but her eyes are bright with tears. It looks like that's all you're getting out of Gran today. [[back|Talk to Gran?]]

"Mom stole the ring," you announce boldly. A stunned silence settles over the dinner table. No one, not even Aunt Emily or Uncle Rick, looks all that convinced. "I would *love* to see how you plan on proving that," Mom says. "Sadie!" Dad cries, standing up and pushing his chair back with a clatter. "What are you *thinking*?" "Mom is the only person in the house who managed to conceal any motive for stealing the ring. Not to mention that her alibi is a little *too* perfect, like she planned it. It's the perfect crime, right? And she's definitely smart enough to pull it off." Mom stares at you, utterly unimpressed, and then returns to eating her lamb. Ouch. It doesn't look like she's taking your accusation all that seriously. In retrospect, it wasn't the *most* solid theory of the crime. It would have been such a great twist ending to a mystery novel, though. "Um—sorry, Mom," you mumble. "Maybe I got a little carried away." And then, right before you dissolve into a puddle of shame, Gran sets down her fork. "All right, Sadie," she says. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

"Dad, you took the ring," you accuse. Your father stares at you. Not with his Serious Dad Face, but with something that looks like... hurt? You soldier on. "You're the executor of Gran's will," you explain, "so you know that you aren't going to inherit from Gran. You stole the ring to make up for it." Dad says nothing. "*You're* doing Mom's will?" Aunt Emily cries. "And what do you mean, not going to inherit?" Well. You've just opened several cans of worms here. "Sadie. He was with me all night," Mom points out. "Straight through from dinner until Gran came looking for him. He had no opportunity to steal the ring. Unless you think I'm falsely corroborating his alibi?" She raises an eyebrow to devastating effect. "Sadie," Dad says quietly. "I'm disappointed in you." You die a little on the inside. You know for a fact that you are going to relive this moment every time you try to sleep for the next thirty years or so. And then, just as you're considering hiding underneath the table for the rest of dinner, Gran sets down her fork. "All right, Sadie," she says. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

"Aunt Emily," you say, "you were the one who took the ring." "I—" she squeaks. "You've always loved Gran's ring. You're almost obsessed with it." "I'm not *obsessed*," she protests, but a significant look from you silences her. You don't want to expose her internet double life in front of everyone, but she knows that you know. "You think the ring ought to belong to you. Maybe you were worried Gran isn't going to leave it to you, so you decided to steal it before that could happen. Not to mention that you had one of the best opportunities to steal the ring; you were the last one to see the ring, and you admit to being all over the house late last night." "But I *didn't*," Aunt Emily whispers in this pathetic little-girl voice. "**Enough**," Uncle Rick roars. "I won't have my wife bullied like this." Uncle Rick's noisy objection aside, Aunt Emily's reaction is unexpected. She's just dissolving into tears. If she were guilty, knowing her as you do, you'd expect her to be loudly defending herself, accusing Irene, making a fuss. And then, right before Christmas dinner irretrievably melts down, Gran sets down her fork. "All right, Sadie," she says. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

"Uncle Rick took the ring," you announce. "What?" Aunt Emily cries, at a pitch that is a significant danger to the wine glasses. "With Cody's private school tuition, money is tight. He needs the ring more than any of the rest of us." Uncle Rick turns magenta, but he doesn't shout. His quiet, controlled tone is even scarier than his usual noise. "False accusations are serious, young lady," he rumbles. "You're family, so I'll be forgiving, but I could take you to court for libel if I wanted to." "It's slander," Mom interrupts absently. "Libel is written defamation; slander is spoken." "Not the time or place, darling," Dad whispers. "How dare you accuse him—your own Uncle—" Aunt Emily is shouting. "You'd better get that daughter of yours under control, Jack," Uncle Rick is muttering to your Dad. And then, right before Christmas dinner irretrievably melts down, Gran sets down her fork. "All right, Sadie," she says. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

"Cody took the ring," you announce. "He doesn't have a job or an allowance, so he's desperate for any source of money. He probably took it to sell later on." Of course you aren't going to mention the more personal aspect of Cody's motivation. His secret boyfriend isn't relevant, and you're not about to screw up his life. Even if he did steal the ring. Cody looks up at you through a curtain of greasy hair. For a moment you think you see something in his eyes—something almost like hurt. Then he looks down at his plate again. "Whatever," he says. "Well?" Uncle Rick demands. "Speak up. Did you take your grandmother's ring?" Cody's jaw is clamped shut. "I'm asking you a question, Cody," Uncle Rick says, raising his voice. "The correct answer is 'yes sir' or 'no sir.'" You expected that Uncle Rick would defend Cody. For him to practically accuse him like this, he must think of his son as a real proto-delinquent. That kills you. Again, you think that it must be more awful for Cody than you can possibly imagine, living in that house. And then, right before Uncle Rick ramps the interrogation up a notch, Gran sets down her fork. "All right," she says. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

"Irene took the ring," you say grimly. "Just like Aunt Emily said." Aunt Emily's eyes widen. Looks like she didn't expect anyone to agree with her. "Mrs. Lawson, I never—" Irene protests, her face white and taut with fear. "Irene left the house last night," you continue. "Her footprints in the snow prove that. She could have stashed the ring anywhere, or even already sold it." "*Sadie Goldberg-Lawson*," Gran booms. In that moment, you feel a profound, bone-level fear. [["That's enough."|Gran intervenes]]

Gran stands up right there at the dinner table, all eyes on her. "I won't have this. I won't have my family falling on each other like wolves, accusing each other like this." She turns to you and offers a tight, pale smile. "I know you worked hard today, Sadie, trying to figure it all out. You're an excellent detective, and I'm sorry I lied to you." (display: "Gran explains")

With that, she reaches into her pocket and withdraws her closed hand. She opens her palm, and— Gran is holding the ring in her palm. It's unmistakably the Lawson family ring, huge and sparkling as ever. Right. There. It takes you a moment to process this new information, to realize that *Gran had the ring in her pocket the whole time*. "Mom—" Dad begins, and then he just flaps his jaw a few times and falls silent. "What is going on?" Aunt Emily cries, nearly ultrasonic with shock. "I didn't want to say this in front of everyone. But perhaps it's better that I do. It was silly of me, trying to hide this from all of you. No—it was wrong of me." Gran sits down again, slipping the ring back on her finger. "Irene, dear, would you mind pouring me some of that wine?" Irene stands, pours Gran a glass of wine, and hovers behind her, her hands nearly vibrating with nervous energy. "I took the ring," Gran announces. "And it's my own ring, so there's no crime, and no one's going to call the police." "Mom," your father attempts, still flabbergasted. "*Why?*" "Maybe I should begin at the beginning," Gran says, taking a sip of wine. "I've been trying to get things in order. So that I don't leave too much work for all of you when I die. "I made a list of my assets for the will. And then I thought I'd better get the ring appraised so it could be sold and its value rolled into the estate..." "No," Aunt Emily protests softly. "*Or*," Gran continues, "so I would at least know its value if I were going to leave it as a gift, so I wouldn't be treating my children unequally. "And I took it to a jeweler," she says calmly, "and they informed me that the center stone is a lovely, high-quality cubic zirconia worth about thirty dollars." Gran seems to take a little grim pleasure in the stunned silence around the dinner table. "When I went through your father's papers," she continues, "I learned that it had last been appraised as a genuine diamond in 1980. After that, your father didn't have the insurance policy renewed." "1980," Dad says, frowning, and then his eyes widen. "Your freshman year of college," Gran confirms quietly. "I can never know for sure—your father never told me—but I believe he sold the diamond to cover tuition for you and Emily. Back then, I let him handle the finances. He told me he would make it work, and he did, and I didn't ask how..." Gran pauses to blink quickly and drink a little more wine. "He never told me; he had the diamond replaced with this very nice cubic zirconia. I think he must have been embarrassed that he had to do it. He didn't want me to know. He certainly didn't want any of you to know. "I knew that after I died, the ring would be appraised, and everyone would know. So I thought I could just discreetly 'lose' the ring this Christmas, and that would be an end of it. Your father worked so hard and loved you so much—and if he wanted to keep this a secret, then he had that right." "I can't believe he sold it," Aunt Emily whispers. You're not sure she's following the conversation, which is understandable. She's grieving. She really loved that thing. "Did you think we would think any less of him?" Dad asks. "He sold it for *us*." "I know," Gran says softly. "He was wonderful, wasn't he? But he was proud, too, and I wanted to preserve his memory the way he wanted it." Were you wrong to tell everyone? Did you just dishonor your grandfather's memory by digging up the truth? You look around the table and think about all the secrets you learned today. Dad trying to do right by Gran, worrying about her will and how it'll affect Aunt Emily. Aunt Emily and her secret online life. Uncle Rick white-knuckling his way through financial hardship. Cody and his secret boyfriend, counting down the days until he turns 18. Irene, so private about her personal life and her friend in town. Gran and her clumsy lies, trying to protect Grandpa's memory. And Grandpa, pawning his family heirloom to send his kids to college, too ashamed to tell his own wife, too proud to ask his parents for help. These people are your own family, and you hadn't really known them, known what was going on in their lives, until you started digging. And it's not like you love them less because of their secrets. Even Aunt Emily and Uncle Rick—they're not easy people to love, and you might never stop being angry at them for how they've treated Cody—but you understand them a little now. In a way you never would have if the ring hadn't gone missing. "And now that's that," Gran announces brightly, spreading her napkin on her lap. "Now you all know, and we can enjoy our Christmas dinner without any more fuss." Dad raises his glass. "To Dad." "To Dad," Aunt Emily echoes, still a little teary-eyed about the loss of her beloved diamond, but making a good show of it. And then Christmas dinner continues. Uncle Rick starts talking about Jesus in a way that makes Mom drink three glasses of wine, and Aunt Emily starts interrogating Gran about her plans for the ring, and Dad gets second helpings of everything and tells Irene that she's a culinary genius. And Cody, miraculously, smiles at you for a nanosecond. You don't regret snooping. (if: $goodjob is 1)[You solved a mystery; your career as a detective has commenced so brightly! And you've done more than that, too.](else:)[Even if you didn't solve the case, exactly, you feel like you did something important today.] You feel closer to your family than ever before. Lawson family Christmases are going to be different after this. (Hopefully in a good way.) =><= (color: red)[***The End***]

(link:"You can check your notes.")[|todo>[''To do:'' (if: not ( (history:) contains "outside" ))[ Determine if anyone left the house]\ (if: (history:) contains "outside" )[ ~~Determine if anyone left the house~~]\ (if: (((history:) contains "outside") and ($ireneflag is 0)))[ Figure out who made the footprints outside]\ (else-if: ((history:) contains "outside") and ($ireneflag > 0) )[ ~~Figure out who made the footprints outside~~]\ (if: $dadflag is 0)[ Talk to Dad]\ (if: $dadflag > 0 )[ ~~Talk to Dad~~]\ (if: $dadflag is 1)[ Figure out what Dad is hiding]\ (if: $dadflag > 1)[ ~~Figure out what Dad is hiding~~]\ (if: $phonerecord is 1)[ Retrieve your phone from the parlor]\ (if: $phonerecord > 1)[ ~~Retrieve your phone from the parlor~~]\ (if: $phonerecord is 2)[ Listen to your recording somewhere private]\ (if: $phonerecord > 2)[ ~~Listen to your recording somewhere private~~]\ (if: ($phonerecord > 2) and ($dadflag is 2))[ Find out if Dad needs money]\ (if: ($phonerecord > 2) and ($dadflag > 2))[ ~~Find out if Dad needs money~~]\ (if: $granflag is 0)[ Talk to Mom]\ (if: $granflag > 0)[ ~~Talk to Mom~~]\ (if: (not ((history:) contains "EMILY: When did you last see the ring?")) and ($emilyflag is 0))[ Talk to Aunt Emily]\ (if: ((history:) contains "EMILY: When did you last see the ring?"))[ ~~Talk to Aunt Emily~~]\ (if: ((history:) contains "EMILY: When did you last see the ring?") and ($emilyflag is 0))[ Get ahold of Aunt Emily's phone]\ (if: $emilyflag > 0)[ ~~Get ahold of Aunt Emily's phone~~]\ (if: $emilyflag is 1)[ Search Aunt Emily's phone]\ (if: $emilyflag > 1)[ ~~Search Aunt Emily's phone~~]\ (if: $emilyflag is 2)[ Talk to Aunt Emily about WeddingMe]\ (if: $emilyflag > 2)[ ~~Talk to Aunt Emily about WeddingMe~~]\ (if: $rickflag is 0)[ Talk to Uncle Rick]\ (if: $rickflag > 0)[ ~~Talk to Uncle Rick~~]\ (if: $rickflag is 1)[ Ask Mom about how to question Uncle Rick]\ (if: $rickflag > 1)[ ~~Ask Mom about how to question Uncle Rick~~]\ (if: ($rickflag is 2) and (($codyflag < 4) or ($emilyflag < 3)))[ Acquire leverage over Uncle Rick]\ (if: ($rickflag >= 2) and ($codyflag is 4) and ($emilyflag is 3))[ ~~Acquire leverage over Uncle Rick~~]\ (if: ($rickflag is 2) and ($codyflag is 4) and ($emilyflag is 3))[ Question Uncle Rick]\ (if: $rickflag > 2)[ ~~Question Uncle Rick~~]\ (if: ($codyflag is 0) or (not ((history:) contains "CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?") ))[ Talk to Cody]\ (if: ($codyflag > 0) and ((history:) contains "CODY: Do you get an allowance from your parents?"))[ ~~Talk to Cody~~]\ (if: $codyflag is 1)[ Cut the internet to make Cody to leave the attic]\ (if: $codyflag > 1)[ ~~Cut the internet to make Cody to leave the attic~~]\ (if: $codyflag is 2)[ Search Cody's room]\ (if: $codyflag > 2)[ ~~Search Cody's room~~]\ (if: $codyflag is 3)[ Talk to Cody about his ring]\ (if: $codyflag > 3)[ ~~Talk to Cody about his ring~~]\ (if: (not ((history:) contains "Talk to Irene?")) )[ Talk to Irene]\ (if: ((history:) contains "Talk to Irene?") )[ ~~Talk to Irene~~]\ (if: $ireneflag is 1)[ Talk to Irene about the footprints]\ (else-if: $ireneflag > 1)[ ~~Talk to Irene about the footprints~~]\ (if: $ireneflag is 2)[ Learn more about Irene]\ (if: $ireneflag > 2)[ ~~Learn more about Irene~~]\ (if: $ireneflag is 3)[ Convince Irene to talk to you]\ (if: $ireneflag > 3)[ ~~Convince Irene to talk to you~~]\ (if: not ((history:) contains "GRAN: Can you tell me about the ring?") )[ Talk to Gran]\ (if: (history:) contains "GRAN: Can you tell me about the ring?" )[ ~~Talk to Gran~~]\ (if: $granflag is 1)[ Ask Gran about insurance]\ (if: $granflag > 1)[ ~~Ask Gran about insurance~~]\ (if: $granflag is 2)[ Get safe combination from Gran]\ (if: $granflag > 2)[ ~~Get safe combination from Gran~~]\ (if: $granflag is 3)[ Search Gran's safe]\ (if: $granflag > 3)[ ~~Search Gran's safe~~]\ (if: $granflag is 4)[ Press Gran on the contradiction]\ (if: $granflag > 4)[ ~~Press Gran on the contradiction~~]] (link:"You can close your notes.")[(replace: ?todo)[(display: "To Do")]]]