“Neither do I.”

“And money doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know.”

I looked at Ellie.

She was sitting beside his bed, telling him about school, her favorite stuffed rabbit, and the picture she’d drawn of her parents.

Richard listened as though every word were precious.

Finally, I said, “We’ll come back next Sunday.”

He turned toward me.

“Really?”

“For Ellie.”

Richard nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t answer.

That evening, Ellie sat at our kitchen table with the velvet ring box.

She lifted it toward the lamp, watching the diamond sparkle.

“Grandma?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Was this treasure from Mommy?”

I sat beside her.

“In a way, darling. It belonged to someone in her family who wanted you to have it.”

Ellie studied the ring for a moment.

Then she smiled.

“I think Mommy wanted me to find it.”

I looked at her innocent face and felt my throat tighten.