I ripped the paper off and opened the box. It was a pearl necklace, a whole strand of tiny creamy white pearls with a shiny gold clasp. It looked old, not like something you could buy today. It was like my father’s Swiss grandfather clock, beautifully crafted, right down to the clasp. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.
“Oh my gosh,” I breathed, lifting it up.
I looked at Susannah, who was beaming, and then at my mother, who I thought would say it was much too extravagant, but she didn’t. She smiled and said, “Are those—”
“Yes.” Susannah turned to me and said, “My father gave me those for my sixteenth birthday. I want you to have them.”
“Really?” I looked back at my mother, to make sure it was okay. She nodded. “Wow, thank you, Susannah. They’re beautiful.”
She took them from me
