The diamond before the fall

In Tiffany’s private viewing room, the client slipped the necklace on. The room went silent. Diamonds and sapphires moved like a constellation around her throat, catching light with every breath. The client’s eyes welled up. “It’s perfect. You two created something timeless.” Elena beamed and pulled Heiley and Zoe close. “Welcome to the Tiffany family. You girls are designers now.” Champagne flutes clinked. “To Heiley and Zoe — and to many more gems.” Laughter. Flashbulbs. For one perfect minute, Heiley Baldwin was exactly where she dreamed she’d be at age 8. Then her phone buzzed. She slipped into the hallway, Zoe on her heels. “Hello?” Her voice was cautious. “Daddy?” The word cracked as she heard her father’s broken sobs. “Heiley... baby... it’s Mom...” The Tiffany lobby vanished. “What... what happened?” Harris Baldwin’s whisper was shattered glass. “She was in an accident. The doctors... they couldn’t save her.” “Mom...” Heiley’s grip on the phone went white. The word ‘couldn’t’ echoed like a gunshot. Her knees hit the marble before she felt herself fall. Black rushed in. The Tiffany showroom dissolved. The champagne went flat in her mouth. Somewhere, Elena was shouting her name, but the sound came from underwater. All Heiley could hear was the word ‘couldn’t’ — couldn't save her, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't breathe — echoing like a gunshot in the hollow space where her mother used to be. “Heiley!” Zoe caught her, lowering her to the floor as colleagues rushed over. Zoe grabbed the phone. “Uncle Harris? It’s me. Heiley’s unconscious. What happened?” A shattered sigh. “Dear... Martha’s gone. Car crash. She’s gone.” Zoe’s breath hitched. Tears spilled instantly. “No. Uncle Harris, please... tell me it’s not true. Aunt Martha can’t be—” She looked at Heiley’s still face. “I have to go. She needs me.” “Okay, dear... okay.” The call ended. Zoe’s phone buzzed. A text from Troy: _Hey, it’s me. I’m 30 min out to pick you up. Booked flights back to Colombia. Take care of Heiley. She needs us more than ever._ Zoe dropped to her knees beside Heiley, phone slipping from her fingers. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.” Heiley’s eyelids fluttered. The ceiling swam. Then Zoe’s red-rimmed face came into focus. “Heiley, I’m so sorry...” The truth hit like ice water. Mom. Gone. A sob tore out of Heiley’s throat as she collapsed into Zoe’s arms. “Mommy,” she choked, the word small, broken, eight years old again. “Not Mommy...” The room erupted in a chorus of sympathetic murmurs, and her colleagues rushed to comfort her. “I’m here, Heiley,” Zoe whispered, holding her tight. “We’ll get through this together.” The room fell quiet, except for Heiley’s heart-wrenching sobs. Her colleagues offered words of condolence and gentle pats on the back.