The detective frowned. “You’re saying this purse is yours?”

“Yes,” I said, and pulled out my driver’s license, grocery receipts, and reading glasses.

Robert said quietly, “Detective, either Victoria accused the wrong woman, or someone planted stolen jewelry in her bag after the hearing.”

“Mom,” Chloe whispered. “Look at the camera.”

We turned to the doorbell-camera monitor. It had recorded a woman in a gray coat entering the hallway at 6:42 p.m., carrying flowers she left outside our door — one of the six women from the hotel suite.

The detective studied the footage. “I need a copy of this.”