Christina, ever graceful, walked over to one of the display cases with the elegance of someone who had done this all her life.
"This one will suit you," she said, her tone warm but certain.
She reached into the case and picked up a piece so effortlessly it made Joanne's knees weak. It was an elegant tiara—silver-filigree, glittering with a fan of diamonds and crowned with a single, luminous emerald the size of an acorn.
Joanne's stomach dropped. The tiara sparkled like it held stars inside it.
Without hesitation, Christina placed it gently on Joanne's head, adjusting it with care. Then she guided her by the shoulder toward a floor-length mirror resting at the far wall.
"See…" Christina said softly, standing behind her with quiet pride. "I was right."
Joanne stared at the mirror.
