Word of the dispute leaked through local jeweler channels. On Thursday morning, a slick estate dealer named Vance pulled up to Hannah’s apartment in a black sedan. He offered her forty thousand dollars in cash on the spot, tucked inside a plain manila envelope.
“Take the deal,” Vance urged, leaning against her porch railing. “Clara’s lawyer is going to file a court order by Friday. Once that happens, the ring gets impounded in a police locker for two years while rich people fight over legal definitions of ‘mistaken conversion.’ Take the cash, hand me the receipt, and let me deal with the lawsuit.”
Hannah looked at the thick envelope. Forty thousand dollars right now meant immediate peace. But selling under the table felt wrong, like running away from a truth she hadn’t uncovered yet. She turned him down.