“And I think she’d be glad it was loved enough to wear.”

Poppy buried her face against me.

I held her until she stopped crying, then put the broken clasp and chain in a little envelope for the jeweler.

I could afford a modest repair now.

More important, I could tell Poppy that something damaged wasn’t automatically lost forever.

When Evelyn came over the next day, she brought a soft cloth and helped us polish the repaired bracelet.

Poppy carefully placed it back inside its box.