Not shock.
Something deeper.
Guilt.
“…what did she tell you?” he whispers.
The woman steps closer.
Still shaking.
Still unsure.
“She told me… you let her die.”
Silence explodes.
The words hang in the air like something poisonous.
The jeweler stumbles back.
“No… that’s not—”
“She said,” the woman continues, voice cracking,
“that when she needed you most…”
A tear falls.
“…you chose money.”
The room feels smaller now.
He can’t breathe.
“I searched for her for years…” he mutters.
“Too late,” she cuts in.
Another step forward.
Now they’re face to face.
“She wasn’t alone when she died.”
His eyes snap up.
Confused. Desperate.
“…what do you mean?”
Her lips tremble.
The truth is heavy.
“I was there.”
Silence.
Everything stops.
“I was the one she trusted.”
A beat.
A final blow—
“She gave me that locket… and made me promise…”
Her voice drops to a whisper:
“…never to forgive you.”
