My husband bought me an expensive bracelet for our anniversary—but when I went to resize it, the saleswoman revealed he had bought a second one just days earlier.

does she live?”

“What?”

“Marta. Where does she live?”

“Olivia, please.”

“Write it down.”

He hesitated, then reached for a notepad. The pen scratched across the paper.

I took the address and walked out.

I drove until I found myself at the cemetery. Emily’s headstone looked smaller than I remembered.

I sat in the grass and opened the box. The bracelet caught continue reading …