The woman closed her eyes.
I helped her to her feet. She was shaking all over. I held her elbow.
“Was it your wedding ring, dear?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“No,” she said. Her voice trembled. “It was my grandmother’s. It’s… it’s much more complicated than that.”
She pressed the ring against her heart.
“You really saved my life,” she said.
“It’s just a ring, honey,” I said. “Your life’s still right here.”
She looked at me. Something strange crossed her face. Like she wanted to say something and couldn’t.
“Not just my life,” she whispered.
Before I could ask what she meant, her phone rang.
She pulled it out of her back pocket. She glanced at the screen.
She went pale.
Not a little pale. White. All the blood drained out of her face like somebody had pulled a plug.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I have to… I have to take this.”
