He staggered back, gripping the counter. “Miss… you need to sit down.”
My stomach dropped.
“Is it fake?”
“No,” he said, voice shaking. “It’s very real.”
Before I could react, he grabbed the phone.
“I have it. The necklace. She’s here.”
A chill ran through me.
“Who are you calling?”
He looked at me, wide-eyed. “Miss… someone has been searching for you for twenty years.”
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