Then he held out a small box. The edges were worn, as if it had been carried for many years.
“He made me promise something,” Paul said quietly. “If I outlived him, this was meant for you.”
My hands trembled as I accepted it.
Inside the box rested a thin gold wedding band—smaller than mine and worn smooth with time. Beneath it lay a folded note written in Walter’s familiar handwriting.
For one terrible moment my heart raced with fear.
“Mama?” Ruth asked softly. “What is it?”
I stared at the ring.
“This isn’t mine,” I whispered.
Toby looked confused. “Grandpa left you another ring?”
I shook my head slowly. “No, sweetheart. It belongs to someone else.”
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