No one moved to pick it up.
Her husband, Daniel, stared at her with bloodshot eyes, frozen between panic and exhaustion.
Their son Leo slowly pushed himself upright from the rug beside the bed. His face looked pale and older somehow, as though he had aged during the four months Clara had been gone.
But Clara could barely see either of them.
Her eyes remained locked on the hand resting atop the blanket.
That ring.
Gold worn thin around the edges.
A tiny crack through the green stone.
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