The noise from the grand hall drifted up in waves. She turned over the dazzling array of jewelry her father had laid out for her, and a hollow ache settled in her chest without warning.
The alley where she'd grown up was in an old village on the outskirts of the city. There had been no shortage of girls her age among the neighbors, but most of them had been married off young, their futures decided by their parents.
Only Hilda had made it through the doors of a high school, carried there on the pennies her grandmother scraped together, one recycled bottle and one flattened cardboard box at a time.
She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen Grandma Nora cry in her entire life. The only time was when Hilda had gotten into a top high school but started talking about dropping out because of the staggering cost of tuition and textbooks. Her grandmother had slapped her across the face, tears streaming down her own cheeks.
Then she'd pulled Hilda into her arms and sobbed. That night, Grandma Nora had gone deep into the back of the old cabinet and brought out a tin box. Inside was a small gold locket engraved with the character for "Summers."