Confronting the Possibility
“That can’t be true,” Maria said, her voice faltering as doubt crept in. “My grandmother gave it to me when I was a child. She told me it was hers.” The shopkeeper crossed his arms, eyes hard as stone. “People lie, young lady. Memories are faulty. But I know this ring as surely as I know my own face. It was taken from me during a break-in many years ago. I never thought I’d see it again.”
Confronting The Possibility
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