Not anger anymore—something colder.
“Who told you that?” she asked, her voice lower, controlled.
The boy slowly reached into his pocket. Every person in the café leaned forward without realizing it. Even the phones stopped shaking.
He pulled something out, but kept it hidden inside his fist.
“She cries every night about you,” he whispered.
A breath caught in the woman’s throat.
For the first time, she looked unsettled.
“Show me,” she said quietly.
The boy opened his hand.
Inside—was a broken piece of a gold necklace.
The café erupted in shocked gasps.
The woman stumbled back.
“No… that’s impossible…”
The boy looked up at her, completely calm.
“You were supposed to keep both pieces together.”
Her face drained of color.
Her lips trembled.
“…because I—”
Suddenly, she grabbed his arm—hard.
Too hard.
And pulled him closer, whispering with a voice no one expected:
“Where did you see her last?”
