The waitress had gray hair pinned back with a bobby pin, and she poured water before she said hello.

“You’re the necklace lady.”

Claire’s hand went to her throat.

“You were working last night.”

“I work every night.” She went to the register and came back with a small brown envelope, soft at the fold.

“I put it in here so it wouldn’t tarnish.”

Claire opened it.

The silver was cold and then warm, and she hooked the clasp behind her neck without a mirror.