She closed the locket with a snap. “I’ll take it,” she said. “But not for the shop. For me.”
“Mira Delaney. And you’re welcome.” Miras - Nora Roberts
Instead, Caleb leaned forward. “So you’re a receiver. A sensitive.” He said it like it was a profession, like architect or plumber . “My grandmother was the same. She couldn’t wear rings. Said every gemstone screamed the story of every hand that had worn it.” She closed the locket with a snap
Mira had always hated mirrors.
Two months later, a woman came into the shop. She was elegant, silver-haired, dressed in cashmere that cost more than Mira’s rent. She carried a small, velvet-wrapped object. “I was told you might help me,” the woman said. “You have a reputation for… discretion.” Miras - Nora Roberts