Chapter 1

"Fix it." Charles Rivers slid a velvet box onto my workbench. "I need it tomorrow night."

I didn't look up. I was still soldering an old brooch. "Rush fee is triple."

"This isn't business," he said.

Only then did I open the box. Inside was a blue-diamond wedding ring with broken prongs. My fingers went still.

It was my wedding ring and the last blue diamond my mother left me. Before she died, she'd gripped my hand and said, "Don't give it to someone who won't cherish it."

Back then, I'd laughed and told her she worried too much. But now, that stone lay in the box Charles had brought over like a prop someone had casually tried on and damaged.

I looked at him and asked slowly, "Charles, where did you get this?"

He stood under the light, still wearing his suit jacket. "Joanna's engagement is tomorrow. The ring she was supposed to use had a problem."

"So you took mine to fill in for hers?"

"Just for one night."

I laughed. "One night?"

"Evelyn, don't do this," he said.

I turned the ring over. The four characters engraved on the inside had been worn down by half, and the band had even been resized smaller.

I looked up at him. "You had it resized too?"

"Her fingers are thinner. It didn't fit."

"Of course it didn't. It was made for me."

"Just fix it first."

"Charles, do you know who engraved those four words?"

He fell silent for two seconds, then said, "It doesn't matter."

I nodded. "Fine."

So my wedding ring, my name, and my size meant nothing to him. All that mattered was that Joanna couldn't be embarrassed tomorrow night.

I lowered my head and pulled on my gloves, my voice oddly calm. "Leave it here and wait outside."

Before he left, he added, "Don't go tomorrow night."

"Afraid I'll make a scene?"

"Joanna's not in a good place emotionally right now."

I set the ring back on the velvet. "Relax. I'm busy."

After the door shut, I switched the light back on. Two prongs were broken, the band had been polished a second time, and the edge was lined with fine scratches from repeated try-ons.

I picked up my phone, took photos, then recorded a video. That night, I showed no mercy but only evidence.

By the time Michael Lane arrived, I'd already removed the center stone. The second he saw the blue diamond, he cursed. "It's really that ring?"

"Yeah." I replied.

"And you're still fixing it?"

"I am."

I handed him my phone. It held photos of everything: the engraving inside the band, the resized shank, the broken setting, and the chat messages about borrowing the ring.

"This isn't about leaving him a way out. It's about leaving myself proof."

Michael studied me for a moment. "Then I'll get the divorce papers ready for you."

I said, "Okay. Nine tomorrow morning. City Hall."

That blue diamond was the last thing my mother left me. Before she died, she pressed a small cloth pouch into my palm and said, "What others give you will wear out. What you protect yourself won't."

Later, I spent seven days turning it into a wedding ring by hand. I ruined the engraving three times. When I finally got it right, the graver sliced my fingertip, and I scrubbed the blood off until the band shone again.

On our wedding day, Charles slipped it onto my finger and said, "Don't take it off again." I actually believed him.

Looking back, it wasn't that he couldn't bear to see me remove it. He just never really looked at it.

At one in the morning, Charles called. "Is it fixed yet?"

"Almost."

"Joanna's trying on dresses. She's waiting to see it."