A single teardrop sapphire ringed with tiny diamonds.

One of a kind.

There was not another like it anywhere in the world, because Julian had commissioned it, personally, five years ago, for our anniversary — and had told me, gravely, that it was far too valuable to actually wear, and so it had lived, for five years, in a velvet box, locked in the drawer of my own bedroom.

I knew that necklace the way you know your child’s face.