Collectors.
People simply curious about gemstones.
Victor thought it would cheapen the brand.
The first session filled in twenty-six minutes.
An eighty-year-old retired teacher sat beside a seventeen-year-old fashion student while Celeste explained how light moved through diamonds.
A sanitation worker brought his daughter because she wanted to become a jewelry designer.
A grandmother showed a tiny synthetic sapphire ring and asked how to clean it.
Nobody laughed at the ring.
Naomi attended the first session unnoticed in the back.
At one point a little girl raised her hand.
“Do diamonds know they’re expensive?”
The room laughed.
Celeste smiled.
“No.”
The girl thought.
“Then why are they?”
Celeste looked toward Naomi.
Naomi mouthed:
Good luck.
Celeste laughed.
Then answered carefully about rarity, labor, culture, markets, and desire.
The girl seemed unconvinced.
So was Naomi.
Maybe that was healthy.
Six months after the acquisition, Naomi visited the Baltimore apartment where her grandmother had lived.
The building belonged to someone else now.
She did not go inside.
She stood across the street in a dark coat and looked toward the second-floor window.
Marcus, her driver, remained beside the car.
Naomi wore the blue diamond necklace beneath her coat.
Not visible.
She had worn it only twice publicly.
That night was private.
She crossed the street to the small neighborhood church her grandmother attended for thirty-two years.
The building looked smaller than Naomi remembered.
Inside, evening choir rehearsal had just ended.
An elderly woman recognized her.
“Evelyn’s girl?”
Naomi smiled.
“Still.”
The woman hugged her.
No hesitation.
No appointment card.
No financial verification.
Naomi laughed into the woman’s shoulder.
They sat in a pew.
“You look like her.”
“People say I look like my mother.”
“You look like Evelyn when you’re trying not to cry.”
Naomi immediately cried.
The woman handed her a tissue.
“See?”
Naomi laughed.
After a while, she removed the necklace from beneath her coat.
The woman stared.
“Good Lord.”
Naomi smiled.
“That’s what Grandma would have said.”
“No.”
The woman shook her head.
“Evelyn would have said, ‘How much did that foolish child spend?’”
Naomi laughed harder.
“Exactly.”
She touched the blue diamond.
“The design came from her sewing sketches.”
The woman leaned closer.
Then her expression softened.
“Oh.”
Naomi explained the black feather motif.
The blue brooch.
The old notebooks.
When she finished, the woman said:
“She would’ve loved it.”
Naomi shook her head.
“She would’ve complained for six months.”
“Yes.”
“Then shown everybody.”
“Absolutely.”
They sat quietly.
Finally the woman asked:
“Why jewelry?”