A woman had fainted, collapsing awkwardly onto one of the chairs. Her companions were trying to rouse her, their voices a mix of urgency and fear. As people rushed to her aid, a waiter stepped back, nearly tripping over something on the floor. From my vantage point, I could see what had caused the disturbance—a delicate, vintage brooch had fallen, its intricate design catching the dim light. It was shaped like a spider, its jeweled body glistening.

My heart skipped a beat. I clutched Ben a little tighter, my mind racing. Could this be what he had seen? A simple misunderstanding, a trick of the light? Or was it something else entirely? The timing was unnerving, and the brooch, though beautiful, had an unsettling presence.

Arthur and I exchanged glances, silently agreeing to wait and see how the situation unfolded. The woman was slowly coming to, her friends assuring her it was just the heat, the stress. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was at play.