My “Golden Child” Sold My Late Wife’s Necklace—Until The Pawn Shop Called Me

“The note,” he said. “I put it in here so it wouldn’t get lost.”

“Thank you,” I managed.

I drove three blocks before I had to pull into a grocery store parking lot. My hands were shaking. I took the necklace out of the cloth, held it up to the light, and found the barely visible indentation on the side of the heart. I pressed it with my thumbnail.

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