I Returned a Lost Diamond Ring at the Supermarket. The Next Day, a Man in a Black Mercedes Knocked on My Door

Max wedged himself into the bottom of the cart, narrating our journey like a sports announcer. Lily debated bread choices as if lives depended on it. Noah knocked over a display and declared the problem solved once he said “sorry.” Grace sat in the front, singing the same song over and over, crumbs trailing behind her like breadcrumbs.

I was tired. The kind of tired that lives in your bones.

We turned into the produce aisle, and that’s when I saw it.

Between two bruised apples sat something that did not belong there. At first, I thought it was plastic. A child’s toy ring, maybe. But when I picked it up, it had weight. Real weight.

A diamond ring.

For a moment, my hand closed around it instinctively. My mind moved faster than I wanted it to. Bills. Repairs. Groceries. Braces. All the things I worried about late at night.

Then Lily pointed out an apple she thought looked magical, and Grace laughed at nothing in particular, and the decision made itself.

This ring wasn’t mine.

I slipped it into my pocket, planning to turn it in at customer service.

Before I could move, a voice broke through the aisle.

The Woman Who Lost Everything Once Already

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