The bell above the pawnshop door chimed as Evelyn stepped inside.
She didn’t hesitate as her hand clenched around the strap of her bag, thumb pressing unconsciously against the weight of the ring on her finger. It felt warmer than she remembered...snug, almost insistent, as if it had settled into place and refused to be ignored.
The shop was narrow and dim, lit by fluorescent lights that flattened everything they touched. Glass cases lined the walls, crowded with rings, chains, watches and other objects reduced to metal and stone, stripped of the lives they once belonged to. The air smelled faintly of dust and polish, old money and older regrets.
Behind the counter, the pawnbroker glanced up. His eyes flicked to her hand almost immediately.
“Hi, looking to sell or pawn?” he asked, voic
