“I need to sell this.”
The man barely glanced at it. Then his hands froze.
His eyes locked onto the necklace.
And the color drained from his face so fast I thought he’d faint!
“Where did you get this?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
“It was my grandmother’s,” I said, a bit annoyed by the delay. “Look, I just need enough for rent.”
I frowned.
“Merinda. Merinda L. Why?”
The man’s mouth opened, then closed, before he stumbled back as if the counter had shocked him!
“Miss…
you need to sit down,” he muttered, gripping the edge of the counter.
My stomach dropped.
“Is it fake?” I asked, worried.
He let out a shaky breath.
“No. It’s… It’s real.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed a cordless phone with trembling fingers and hit a speed-dial button.
“I have it,” he said quickly when someone answered.
“The necklace. She’s here.”
A cold feeling crept up my spine.
“Who are you calling?” I asked, taking a step back.
He covered the receiver, his eyes wide.
“Miss… the master has been searching for you for 20 years!”
My pulse spiked.
Before I could demand what that meant, a lock clicked behind the showroom.
The back door swung open.
And when I saw who stepped through, I gasped.
“Desiree?!”
She looked older, of course.
Time had softened the edges of her face and added silver to her hair. But she carried herself the same way I remembered: straight-backed, composed, elegant without trying.
She was my grandmother’s best friend!
Desiree used to visit my grandmother, bringing pastries and stories I was too young to understand.
I hadn’t seen her in years.
The moment her eyes landed on me, something in her broke.
Like she’d been holding something together for too long.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said softly.
Before I could react, she crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.
It caught me off guard.
Warm. Familiar.
And completely unexpected.
I stood there, stiff at first, then slowly let myself lean into it.
“What’s going on?” I asked when she finally pulled back.
Desiree studied my face.
“You look so much like her,” she murmured.
“Nana?” I asked.
She nodded, then glanced at the man behind the counter.
“It’s all right, Samuel.
I’ll take it from here.”
He nodded quickly, almost relieved.
I frowned. “Why did he call you ‘the master’?”
Desiree exhaled slowly. “Because I own this place and three others like it across the city.
He says I hold myself like a ‘master’ instead of a boss.”
That alone surprised me, but not as much as what came next.
Desiree’s gaze dropped to the necklace.
“That,” she said quietly, “is why I’ve been searching for you.”
“Why?”
Desiree hesitated, then motioned toward a chair. “Sit down. Please.”
Something in her tone made me listen.
I sat.
She took the seat across from me, folding her hands together.
