Mauricio wasn’t the thoughtful type.
Inside the box was a gold necklace with a teardrop pendant.
It was beautiful.
Too beautiful for what we could afford.
“Put it on,” he said. “I want to see you wearing it.”
It wasn’t what he said.
It was how he said it.
Not romantic.
Urgent.
“I’ll try it later,” I replied.
His smile tightened. “Don’t take too long.”
When he went to the bedroom, I stayed in the kitchen, staring at the necklace like it was alive.
Then I remembered the old woman.
Feeling foolish, I filled a glass with water and dropped the necklace inside.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
At six in the morning, a strange smell woke me—metallic, sour, like wet coins.
I walked barefoot into the kitchen… and froze.
The water was no longer clear.
It had turned thick and greenish.
The pendant had split open.
At the bottom of the glass was a gray powder… and a folded strip of metal.
