Mara’s mornings were always quiet—coffee brewing in the kitchen, the fridge humming steadily, and the soft chatter of the morning news filling the room. She liked the predictability; it gave her a sense of safety in a world that had once spun too fast. Wrapped in a quilt, she sipped her coffee and stared absently at the screen.

Then, without warning, the anchor’s tone sharpened. “A rare piece of jewelry,” he said, “one of only three known to exist, was spotted last night at a charity gala.”

The image shifted to a close-up of a silver chain with a deep blue stone glowing under the lights. Mara’s breath caught. She knew this pendant—too well to be mistaken.

It was hers. Or at least, it had been.

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