I unlocked the door with trembling fingers, and the man stepped inside, wiping his shoes carefully on the mat. “My name is Mr. Caldwell,” he said. “I am an attorney. May I sit?” Lily peeked out from the hallway in her pajamas, clutching her stuffed rabbit. He opened the envelope and slid a photograph across the kitchen table. It showed a young man with kind eyes, standing beside a woman holding a baby. My breath caught.

“That is my son,” I whispered. “And his wife. How did you get this?” Mr. Caldwell swallowed hard. “Ma’am, the woman in the store yesterday is named Helena. The ring Lily found was never hers to lose. It belonged to your son. And before he died, he left something with us that Helena was supposed to deliver to you three years ago.” Outside, the black SUV’s door opened, and Helena stepped out, holding a small wooden box.