So when the memorial ended and my husband quietly pressed a small box into my hands, my first instinct was confusion.
“She wanted you to have this,” he said. His expression unreadable.
He nodded. “She was very clear. She said you should open it today. Alone.”
That word—alone—echoed in my chest.
The Necklace with My Initials
Later that night, when the house was still, I finally opened the box.
Inside lay a silver necklace with a delicate teardrop pendant, set with a tiny sapphire. It shimmered softly, as if it had been waiting years for this moment.
I turned it over in my hand—and froze.
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