Page 56 of The Meaning in Mistletoe
As all the pieces came together, Kat’s pulse quickened. “Do you see the brooch?”
Please, please be there.She didn’t think she could handle another clue. With Christmas only a few weeks away, they were running out of time.
“No…” Penny ran her finger along the perimeter of the box. “But…”
“But what?” Kat pressed, inching closer.
She spotted a tip of burgundy ribbon wedged between the inner velvet lining and the wooden exterior.
Pinching the frayed edge, Penny tugged. The entire base resting beneath the pen shifted, separating from the box to reveal a hidden compartment underneath.
Penny and Kat gasped in unison as they glimpsed a sprig of mistletoe crafted from gleaming gold and gemstones.
“I can’t believe it,” Kat murmured. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
“Here.” Penny passed her the box. “You’ve waited long enough.”
Taking it gingerly, Kat blinked back tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly too overcome with emotion to speak.
“Do you want to call Fern with the good news?”
“Yes! Of course.” Sniffling, she dug into her coat pocket for her cell phone, unable to tear her gaze from the sparkling stones.
Fern picked up on the first ring. But before she could say anything, Kat blurted, “We found it, Fern! We actually found it!”
“Found what?”
“Helena’s brooch. The answer to our problem. A miracle!”
“Slow down, mija. You’re not making any sense.”
Grinning broadly, Kat paced the room, too excited to stand still. “I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. But I came to Poppy Creek hoping to find the brooch Helena always talked about.” Kat glanced at her open palm, still stunned by the brooch’s beauty. “It took Penny and me a while to find it, but it was worth the wait. It’s gorgeous. And I know it’ll sell for enough money to keep the shelter open, at least until we can find more donors.”
She paused, waiting for Fern’s reaction.
But instead of a jubilant exclamation, she murmured, “Oh, mija….”
“What’s wrong?” Kat stopped pacing, and Penny shot her a curious glance.
“I’m so sorry.” Fern’s voice fell away and Kat strained her ear against the speaker.
“I don’t understand. Why are you sorry?”
“It’s very sweet what you two girls did. But… the brooch isn’t worth very much.”
“What do you mean? It has to be! All these diamonds and gems—”
“They’re not real.”
The room started to spin, and Kat sank onto the twin bed, the springs creaking beneath her weight. “What?”
“They’re imitations.”
“They can’t be,” Kat argued, her chest tightening. “The way Helena went on and on about it, I thought—” She scrunched her eyes shut, her temples beginning to throb. “How do you know it’s not real?”
“Because your mother told me. The same night she admitted that mourning the loss of the brooch was simply a transference, a less painful way to grieve her greatest loss—the love she left behind.”
At Fern’s words, a small sob escaped Kat’s lips.
