“Take off your necklace. I want to see what’s inside the pendant.”
Sophia froze. Her fingers involuntarily reached for the jewelry.
“My husband gave it to me for our anniversary.”
“What are you doing?”
“Open it in front of me,” the man said quietly.
There was no threat in his voice. Only a strange, terrifying certainty.
“It won’t open. It’s a solid piece.”
The stranger shook his head.
“Yes, that’s right. See that line on the side? That’s the mechanism.”
But at the last minute, she changed her mind. The old man probably just wanted to cheat her, to extort money from her for an expensive appraisal or repair.
There were a lot of scammers in the city.
She put the pendant back on and went to sleep.
The next morning, Sophia felt so nauseous that she fainted in the bathroom.
She woke up on a cold, hard floor. She felt dizzy and had a metallic taste in her mouth.
“What is happening to me?” she whispered into the void.
As soon as she sat up, she looked in the mirror and shuddered. The face of a seriously ill man stared back at her—pale, thin, with dark circles under his eyes.
She had never felt so bad.
Her hands automatically grasped the clasp of the pendant. She took it off and placed it on the shelf, just as she had the day before. And as if by magic, she felt the knot in her stomach ease slightly.
She didn’t go to work that day. She called in sick.
She spent the entire day at home without her pendant. By evening, she felt almost normal.
She ate, watched a movie, and even went for a short walk around the courtyard, and before going to bed she put her jewelry back on, afraid that Alex would notice it was missing and get upset.
Morning brought another attack. Now there was no doubt.
Two days without a pendant – a relative relief.
Two days with a pendant – a terrible situation.
“This can’t be a coincidence. I’m going crazy,” Sophia thought.
But she was already dialing the business card number.
Richard answered after three rings.
„Sterling”.
“Hi. We met on the subway a few days ago. You told me about my pendant.”
Break.
Then a voice full of relief was heard.
“You finally called. Thank God. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time.”
“I didn’t make it in time – why?”
“To save you, my dear girl. To save you.”
Richard Sterling’s studio was located in an old building near the city center, with high ceilings, narrow windows and creaking wooden floors.
The sign above the entrance read: “Jewelry Workshop, Appraisal, Repair, Expertise.”
continued on next page
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don't forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
