I looked at the ring in my palm. Gold. Old. The diamond throwing little rainbows across the water stain on my kitchen ceiling.
R.M. to E.M. — Forever — 1951.
“It’s worth forty-two thousand dollars,” Vanessa said. “Keep it for her. For college. For whatever she needs. Please.”
I looked at Ellie.
Ellie was looking at the ring.
“Ellie,” I said. “What do you think?”
She thought about it very seriously. Seven years old, with her pajamas and her messy hair and Mr. Hops in her lap.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that it’s the lady’s grandma’s ring. And her grandma loved it. And somebody gave it to her forever.” She pointed at the engraving. “It says forever.”
“It does,” I said.
“So it should stay with her,” Ellie said. “Forever. Like it says.”
Vanessa put her hand over her mouth.
Ellie climbed down from my lap. She took the ring out of my hand. She walked around the table to Vanessa.
