“And how can I thank you? Here’s $500—buy yourself something nice.”
Nia shook her head. “I don’t want money, sir. Just glad I could help.”
But as she extended her hand to shake his in farewell, sunlight caught on something on her finger—a simple silver ring with a unique engraved pattern of interlocking vines and a small sapphire stone in the center. It wasn’t flashy, but it was distinctive, the kind of ring that told a story.
Richard froze. His face went pale, and his hand trembled as he gently took hers to look closer. “Where… where did you get this ring?” he whispered, his voice cracking.
Nia looked confused. “It was my daddy’s. He gave it to my mom when they got married, but after he died, Mom said I should wear it to keep him close. She has a matching necklace or something. Why?”