She thought of dusty auction houses, cluttered estate sales—places where sentiment meant nothing and beauty was just another transaction. It filled her with a hopeless sadness, that quickly turned to anger, and then to quiet despair.
She also felt frantic now thinking that her son should not only be separated from his real mother, but also this heirloom that should be his. What if he had it with him, safe and sound, but he knew nothing of its meaning and value? Just as she had been all those years ago?