She was halfway through pouring herself another cup of coffee when a thought stopped her cold. The anchor had said it—clear as a bell—but she’d been too focused on the pendant’s gleam to register. “One of only three known to exist.” Three! Her knees nearly gave way beneath her.
This necklace might not be her necklace. It could be a twin, a sibling piece she’d never known existed. The one she’d owned might still be somewhere else entirely—lost, pawned, stolen. The sudden rush of certainty she’d felt while watching the news crumbled into something jagged and uncertain.