Chapter 14“The people who created this must have been absolutely amazing,” I murmured, carefully examining the pure gold casket that had contained the jewels Mr. Chetwood said must be the treasure of Iwi Po’o. “Look at the filigree work.” It was intricate, even more so than the silver brooch with the opal at its center I could just remember my mother wearing. Father had curled his lip at it, calling it cheap trash and causing my mother to fight back tears.
“Really pretty. Johnny.”
“Yeah, Mr. Chetwood?”
“What do you know about filigree?”
“Excuse me?”
“Not many young men are familiar with this type of metalwork.”
He meant not many mugs who didn’t have two cents to rub together. Once, my family had had wealth. I’d dined at Delmonico’s for my thirteenth birthday. I recalled the evening w
