Her breath caught mid-sip. She leaned forward, coffee cooling in her hands. The camera lingered on the necklace—delicate etchings curling along its frame, the stone glowing under the light. It was impossible, yet there it was. She knew every curve of that pendant, every shadow in that blue.
The mug trembled in her grip. It wasn’t just similar—it looked the exact same! The necklace she had once held in the palm of her hand, traced with her thumb, and fastened around… She blinked hard, shaking her head. No. That was years ago. This had to be a copy. Or perhaps, the one on TV is a copy of this…