I told him.
He shut his eyes for one second.
Then he stooped under the counter, pulled out an old photograph, and set it in front of me.
I just stared at him.
It was my grandmother. Young. Maybe early 20s. Smiling in a way I had never seen in any of our family photos. And next to her was the man behind the counter, younger but unmistakably him.
She was wearing the earrings.
I looked up at him. « Who are you? »
His voice came out rough. « Someone who has been waiting a lengthy time for one of her people to walk through that door. »
I just stared at him.
He turned one over and pointed to a tiny mark near the clasp.
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