“Where’d you get that?”
“A man was selling it. He said a young woman sold it to him this morning. She had big curly hair.” My voice shook. “Felix, it’s hers. I know it. Look!”
I flipped it over and showed him the engraving. “For Nana, from Mom and Dad.”
He didn’t even read it. He stepped back like it burned him. “Good lord, Natalie.”
“It’s her bracelet!”
“You don’t know that.”
“Felix, it’s hers. I know it. Look!”
“Yes, I do, Felix. I do know.” I felt my voice rise. “We had this made for her graduation. It’s not a knockoff. It’s not some coincidence. This — this was on her wrist the day she left.”
He set the coffee down harder than he meant to. It sloshed over the rim.
“You’re doing this again? I can’t keep going down this road, Natalie.”
“Doing what?”
“Chasing ghosts! You don’t know where that bracelet’s been. People steal things. And they pawn them. Heck, someone probably dug it out of a donation bin.”
I can’t keep going down this road, Natalie.”
“It has the engraving,” I said, staring at him.
“You think that means something? You think that proves she’s alive?”
“It means she touched it. Recently. Isn’t that worth something to you?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “She’s gone. You need to let her be gone.”
“But what if she’s not?”
He didn’t answer. He just stormed out of the room, leaving the coffee steaming and the air buzzing with something I couldn’t name.
“You think that proves she’s alive?”
***
That night, I didn’t eat dinner. I curled up on the couch and pressed the bracelet to my chest — then checked my phone, even though I knew there’d be nothing.
My mind replayed the last time I saw her — Nana barefoot, laughing while trying to toast a waffle and tie her hair up at the same time.
She couldn’t pronounce her full name growing up. Savannah — she called herself Nana instead.
It stuck. It was sweet, and it was hers. And she was mine. Still. Somewhere…
I fell asleep like that, with the bracelet pressed against the ache I’d never healed.
I curled up on the couch and pressed the bracelet to my chest.
***
I woke to pounding.
It was early. Too early for someone to be at my door. I was still in my robe when I opened it. Two officers stood there — one older, gray at the temples, and the other younger and nervously stiff.
Behind them, three police cars crowded the curb.
Across the street, Mrs. Beck stood on her porch and murmured, “That poor woman… ten years.”
“Mrs. Harrison?” the older one asked.
It was early. Too early for someone to be at my door.
“Yes?”
“I’m Officer Phil. This is Officer Mason. We’re here about a bracelet you purchased yesterday.”
“How do you know about —?”
“We need to talk,” he said. “It’s about Nana. Or… Savannah, as she was legally named.”
Felix came around the corner in sweatpants, half-awake. “What the heck is this?”
“We’d like to come inside,” Officer Phil said, eyes steady.
“We need to talk.”
“You can’t just barge in here,” Felix said, stepping between us.
Officer Mason spoke for the first time.
“Sir, this is related to an active missing person case. The bracelet matches a piece of evidence filed under your daughter’s name. She disappeared on the 17th of May, ten years ago.”
“That’s not evidence,” Felix snapped. “It’s junk. It’s circumstantial —”
“You can’t just barge in here.”
“Sir,” Officer Phil interrupted, calm but firm. “We’re going to need you to step outside. This conversation will be easier if we separate you both.”
My heart dropped. “Wait, what? Why would —”
“Please,” Phil said gently, turning to me. “Where is the bracelet right now?”
I pointed to the table, where I’d laid it carefully the night before. Mason picked it up with gloved hands and placed it in an evidence bag.
“Where is the bracelet right now?”
“It was logged in the original file,” Phil explained. “Your daughter was confirmed to be wearing it when she vanished.”
“But how did you know who I was?”
“That stall’s been on our radar,” Phil said. “Stolen property. When my guy saw the bracelet, he called it in — then the vendor sold it to you before we could grab it.”
“That stall’s been on our radar.”
“So he remembered you,” Phil said. “And you were the only one asking about the woman who sold it to him.”
“So… she’s alive? Is that what it means?”
Phil didn’t move.
“It means someone had it. Recently. That’s all we can confirm for now.”
Phil sat on the edge of my armchair like he’d done this a hundred times.
Mason clicked his pen, waiting.
“Did she ever mention wanting to leave?”
“It means someone had it. Recently.”
“No.”
“Was there any tension at home?”
“No. I mean… when she was a teenager, sure. But nothing serious.”
Then Phil asked it. “Ma’am, did your husband ever tell you Nana came home that night?”
I stared at him. “What? No. That’s not possible! She never came home.”
“There was a tip,” he said. “An anonymous call. They said they were a neighbor and they saw her enter your house the night she vanished.”
“That’s not possible! She never came home.”
I felt like my insides were being squeezed.
“That… that can’t be true, Officer.”
Phil didn’t push. He just nodded.
“Sometimes tips get buried. Sometimes people are scared to tell the full truth.”
The officers stepped outside.
I heard shouting.
“That… that can’t be true.”
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