5:45 p.m.
5:45 p.m.5:45 p.m.The sun, sliding low in the western sky pushed a heavy shadow across the narrow cobblestone side street. Claire Belamy waited for a Volvo station wagon to roll past, before she crossed. She turned the knob and pushed on the heavy front door. Above her, a small bell tinkled pleasantly, its delicate peal a nostalgic nod to simpler times. A small sign, strategically placed so that hardly anyone could miss it, informed her security cameras were in use—and thieves would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
The sun, sliding low Claire had visited a few pawn shops with her mother, and later with her grandmother, though she never remembered either woman ever making a purchase. She remembered most of them being located in tired-looking strip malls, offering
