“T don’t want the blood to flake off, but I need to remove the bracelet in order to see the serial number,” she murmurs, handling the watch piece with care. “Do you have a thumbtack?” I whip around and open up the junk drawer in my kitchen, confident I have one somewhere. After rummaging for a minute, I let loose a celebratory ah-ha and hand Daya a blue thumbtack. It takes her a minute, but she finally gets the bracelet unhooked between the lugs of the watch. “Motherfucker,” she curses. “What?” “Someone scratched at the serial number. It’s barely legible.” Daya looks up at me, disappointment radiating from her green eyes. I deflate, a frown tugging my lips down in defeat. “I’m not gonna give up. We’re getting this blood tested and I’m going to figure something out with this watch. Let me handle it?” I nod, trusting Daya to figure it out. She’s incredibly intelligent, and her resources on finding out information are astronomical. And then a light bulb goes off in my head. “In those pictures with Gigi, Frank was wearing that watch.” I pick through all the papers scattered across the island until I find the small stack of photos. “Same watch,” I reiterate, handing the pictures over. Daya peers down at the photos, a grin pulling her lips up. “Now we just have to prove it.”