“Arthur wants you to have it now,” she whispered, her eyes darting toward the counter where two construction workers were eating breakfast.

“He said there is no reason to wait for an estate to be settled.

You always admired it when you were small.”

“I was ten years old,” I said.

“And Caleb broke the clasp on my eleventh birthday.”

“It has been repaired,” she said quickly.

Her fingers went back to the gold band on her hand, spinning it until her skin turned pink.

“We only want you to be comfortable, Mara.