Cursed Luna
Silver band, unpolished, set with a single oval stone that was the color of the deep ocean before a storm.
I was almost sure I was hallucinating it. This was a precious stone. A blue dravite tourmaline, pristine and uncut! My mother had only ever held one in her life!
Why was it sitting here, abandoned in a little unknown shop?
I tapped the glass lightly. “This one,” I said.
The shop owner, a tiny man with small, keen eyes, shuffled over. “Ah, that old thing? Nobody has wanted it for years.” He unlocked the case and placed it in my palm.
Bab Populer