For a long moment, nobody moved.
The lawyer rested both hands on the polished oak desk as though he had been expecting this silence.
Russell’s daughter, Vanessa, folded her arms.
“Well?” she said impatiently. “Open it. Let’s get this over with.”
His son, Daniel, leaned back in his chair with a smirk.
“I hope it’s a thank-you card.”
Their confidence filled the room.
They had already decided what I was.
A gold digger.
A temporary wife.
An embarrassing final chapter in their father’s life.
I looked down at the wooden box.
It wasn’t expensive.
No gold trim.
No engraved initials.
Just smooth walnut wood with a tiny brass latch that looked worn from being opened and closed many times.
My hands trembled as I lifted the lid.
Inside was… a ring.
Not a diamond.
Not an emerald.
Just a simple silver wedding band.
Beneath it rested a folded letter in Russell’s handwriting.
