“Emma. You’re probably angry with me.”
I shook my head automatically.
Then I laughed again.
He knew me too well.
“Good,” he said. “Stay angry for another minute.”
He reached beside his chair and lifted the muddy shovel into view.
“I figured nobody steals a muddy shovel.”
Noah let out a small laugh.
A real one.
The first I’d heard in months.
Ethan smiled.
“There it is.”
His expression softened.
“I hoped I’d get to hear that laugh again somehow.”
Then he set the shovel down.
“The shovel was never the treasure.”
My eyes moved toward the cedar chest beside the television.
