The ring slid easily onto her finger and held there. A perfect fit. Charlotte studied her finger moodily, a cross expression on her face. Why had she picked this ring if it was making her angry? I didn't understand. She held her hand out for me to look at.
"It's a nice ring," I said lamely.
What else did she want from me? The ring was a simple oval design, pure diamond, with smaller diamonds enclosing it. It looked old-fashioned or vintage if that's what the saleswoman called it, but it suited Charlotte. Charlotte scowled.
"This is the same design as the black diamond ring of my grandfather's," she said sourly, staring down at it "I guess if I can't have the real thing, a duplicate or similar one is better than nothing," she said with a dramatic sigh.
Back to the bloody diamond rin
