That was all.

The key was nothing special to look at, not fancy, not valuable, the plainest object imaginable, and I watched the other relatives crane forward and stare at it in confusion, unable to understand why a common house key had just made the formidable Beatrice scream out loud at her own brunch table.

But Beatrice understood.

Beatrice understood at once, before she had even unfolded the card, and that was the thing that told me my husband had prepared something far more serious than I had grasped.

She did not need to read a word.