Life had not been kind to Maria. At sixty-three, she lived alone in a small rented apartment and struggled every week to try and make ends meet. She’d never married as, for thirty years, she’d looked after her mother, who’d suffered from a disastrous mix of Parkinson’s and early dementia. Following her death, Maria lost the income of the monthly pension that used to keep them both going and the only work she could find was with social services. So, after a lifetime of looking after her mother, she was now caring for a small group of elderly citizens she didn’t really give a damn about. They just helped pay the bills.

Maria was nearly an hour late and braced herself for the verbal abuse she knew she would receive from her ungrateful client. Raúl Gonzales was an arrogant, abusive old man whom she truly despised. She cursed under her breath as one of the shopping bags slipped from her grasp while she struggled to find the correct door key from her bulging key ring. As she bent down to pick up a couple of apples that had fallen from her bag, she noticed a small red velvet pouch lying on the grass. She grabbed it and quickly stuffed it inside her coat pocket before opening the front door.

She spent the following hour as usual, washing and feeding the old man, who was as ungrateful as ever for her company or help. Gonzales was a bear of a man. He was six feet tall and weighed over two hundred pounds. Maria speculated that, in his day, he must have been attractive, but now, well into his eighties, he was crippled with arthritis and confined to a wheelchair. His mind, however, was undiminished and, sure enough, she received a tongue-lashing for keeping him waiting for his lunch, a disgusting microwaved concoction of meat and pasta. As usual, she couldn’t wait to finish her duties and leave his company as quickly as possible. Today, though, she had an extra incentive to get away as she had a nagging curiosity about the contents of the velvet pouch.

She bid Gonzales goodbye and made her way to the bus stop, which was a five-minute walk away. The street was quiet, and Maria sat down on the short wooden bench, breathing a heavy sigh. She felt inside her coat pocket and retrieved the velvet pouch, which was now screwed up into a tight ball. The gold drawstring opened easily and she poured the contents into her hand. Two rings tumbled out. One was a plain, thin gold band but the other was far more interesting: a solitaire diamond mounted on a simple open setting. The stone was enormous and was held in position by four platinum claws.