what’s inside. But it is up me now to fulfill the vow to my own mother, never to part with it except to pass it along. The sapphire is said to have powers, but only for those who are worthy.”
Marie’s eyes widened. “Powers? Whatever kind of powers do you mean?”
Her mother’s eyes were intent as they looked back at her daughter. “It is said that divine favour rests upon the wearer — that the sapphire has the power to draw protection and wisdom and prosperity. Now, promise me that you will look after it.”
Marie nodded again. “Yes, Mama. Of course. I promise.”
So Marie found a hiding spot for the box under a loose floorboard in her bedroom and told no one about it. Months later, after her mother’s death, she heard her father through closed doors as he pulled things apart in every room, cursing with increasing agitation and frustration, causing Marie to become fearful at times. She knew he had become a desperate man. But she would not reveal her secret. Not even when he arranged her marriage to Count Uvorov. She would not betray her mother.
So tonight, when she had packed to meet Johann, she had removed the contents from the oblong box and had carefully sewn them inside her coat, taking with her the precious promise of hope that the heirloom offered.
She was nearing the city now, the faint light slowly ushering in a new day. People were beginning to stir. She caught her breath when she saw Johann in the distance, waiting for her at the back of the building, as he had promised. From there, things would go quickly. He had arranged everything. If she wanted to change her mind, this would be the time.
But she knew she wouldn’t.
1
Missing Jewels
Kitchener, May 2000
The scent of lilacs, heavy in the late afternoon heat, drifted over to the front porch step of the townhouse where Garnet sat. She took a sip of her cool, pink lemonade and watched as the stooped figure of a plump, elderly woman in a flowered dress sluggishly made her way along the sidewalk with her wooden cane.
Though the street itself was a quiet oasis, the honking of horns and occasional sirens on the surrounding downtown Kitchener streets irritated Garnet more than usual today.
It was Friday, the start of the Victoria Day weekend, and everyone seemed to have somewhere to go and something to do. Everyone except her. Not that this was entirely unexpected, she supposed, living in a new city.
She hadn’t wanted to move. In fact, she had fought tooth and nail against the idea, and now that she and her mother were here, her nightmare had been realized. Cameron Heights was the worst high school on earth. Everyone there was so unfriendly.
The woman was closer now, almost in front of Garnet, and seemed to be slowing down. She stopped to mop her brow with a white handkerchief before taking a few more unsteady steps. Suddenly, she stumbled, her cane flying to one side and her purse to the other. She landed on the grass, her legs sprawled before her.
“Oh!” Garnet cried. Her cup rattled as she set it down on the step, and she stood up, puzzled for a moment, wondering what to do. Should she go help the woman or would she get up by herself? But the woman sat as though she were in a daze. Garnet hopped down the step and hurried to her side. “Are you okay?” she asked.
The woman’s pale blue eyes fluttered behind her gold-rimmed glasses. “Y-yes, I think so,” she replied breathlessly. “I don’t know what happened. It-it must be this heat.” She put a hand to her chest and said, “My pills. They’re in my purse.”
Garnet reached for the cream leather purse and unzipped it. Her eyes bulged as she spotted an unsealed envelope with a bundle of brown hundred-dollar bills jutting out of the end. She pushed the envelope aside and pulled out a blue prescription bottle.
“These?” she asked, holding up the bottle.
The woman nodded. Garnet fumbled with the security cap and, with shaking fingers, placed a tiny, white pill into the palm of the woman’s hand. She popped it into her mouth and allowed it to dissolve under her tongue while Garnet sat down on the grass beside her, wondering whether she should be calling an ambulance.
“I’m feeling better now,” the woman announced after several minutes. “I think I’ll be on my way. Thank you, dear.” She reached for her purse and, with a trembling arm, placed the tip of her cane onto the sidewalk, pinching her eyes closed as she mustered the strength to pull herself up into a standing position. But no sooner was she up than she sank back down again onto the grass, defeated by her own uncooperative body.
“Do you want me to call someone to come pick you up?” Garnet asked.
The woman shook her head. “No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be better in a few minutes. I just need to wait a little longer.”
Wait a little longer. Now what? Garnet thought. Should she go back to the house and leave the woman here on the grass to regain her strength? She noted the woman’s flushed face. “We have air conditioning,” she offered. “Do you want to come inside and cool down?”
The woman didn’t reply right away. Instead, she looked at Garnet as though summing up her appearance, her eyes fixed on her hair. Without thinking, Garnet put her fingers up to her ponytail of red curls. Was there something wrong with her hair? Why didn’t the woman just answer?
“So, do you want to come in or not?” Garnet asked again, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice.
The woman blinked. “You ... I ... uh, yes,” she stammered, frowning.
Garnet bit her generous lower lip. “So, is that a yes?”
The woman nodded. “Yes,” she said, and she tried to get up again.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Garnet sprang to her feet and slipped an arm around the woman’s cushiony middle. She was taller and heavier than Garnet had expected, and as she strained to lift the woman, Garnet hoped that she didn’t fall back on top of her own slight frame. Garnet took her arm, and couldn’t help but notice how the reflection of the sun sparkled brightly across the huge blue sapphire, encircled by diamonds, in the woman’s ring.
Garnet pushed open the door of the townhouse and guided the woman to the black leather couch in the living room. “Would you like a glass of lemonade or water or something?”
“Water would be wonderful, dear.” The woman leaned back on the couch, pulling the skirt of her dress over her round knees and straightening out the gold locket necklace in front of her. She patted her short, white curls and appeared more comfortable in the coolness of the air-conditioned room.
Garnet returned to her side a few moments later and handed her a glass.
She took it and sipped gratefully. “Ah, much better. Thank you. And I do believe I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is Elizabeth Tate.”
“I’m Garnet Walcott. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tate.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, too, Garnet, but please, call me Elizabeth. So many people have called me Mrs. Tate in my lifetime that sometimes I like to be reminded of my first name.”
Garnet smiled. There was something she liked about this woman. “Okay,
