The necklace Georgette held in her hands was more extravagant than anything I had ever worn. It was comprised of small diamonds laced into a sterling silver setting that appeared as flowered vines. She turned me around and settled the necklace perfectly onto my collarbone. I had to admit—I did wear it well.
“How will I ever repay you?” I asked, truly bewildered.
“You won’t have to. In fact,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “you can keep it.”
“I could never—”
“Please, Marina, keep it. It looks so beautiful on you. I always thought I would pass it on to my daughter, but alas—I never had one. Now I want you to have this.” My eyes teared up, I was at a loss for words. “Don’t cry now, your makeup will run!” Georgette warned. I giggled and she smiled. Impulsively, I threw my arms about her. It was the first hug I’d had since my father died. Georgette’s arms were warm and comforting. It was a perfect moment…
“And just think,” Georgette broke our silence, “soon, you’ll be back with your family.”