I thought about the roof. The juice. The pills I’d been cutting in half.
That ring could pay for all of it.
“Grandma?” Ellie looked up at me. “Do you think somebody’s crying because they lost it?”
In her palm sat a gold ring.
My face went hot.
“Let’s find out, sweetheart.”
We started toward customer service.
Maybe you’re a fool. Nobody ever hands you anything.
Because it isn’t yours. That was my mother’s voice. We don’t take what isn’t ours.
Was I really going to start stealing at seventy, with my granddaughter holding my hand?
That ring could pay for all of it.
Then a woman burst through the front doors.
Mid-forties. Mascara down her cheeks. One shoe untied. She glanced over her shoulder like someone was chasing her.
“Please! Has anyone turned in a diamond ring? I was here twenty minutes ago!”
