Questioned ownership
“Yes, of course, it is mine. “Why would it not be?” I said, attempting to convey confidence. But the jeweler did not laugh. His demeanor remained solemn and almost somber. His gaze, now sharp and concentrated, appeared to penetrate the very fabric of my claims. His refusal to lessen the strain made my palms sweat even more. Something was obviously out of place, and I had to figure out what it was.
Questioned Ownership
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