Rowan

“It wasn’t easy,” said the metalsmith as he wiped his grimy hands on a rag. He spun around in his car, plopping a small, smooth ring in the palm of my hand. “You were right about the stone; it was jade–a sizable, practically flawless hunk of it. Say, where did you find it?”

“On the beach,” I said softly, turning the ring over in my hand.

The entire thing was made of jade, carved right out of the stone Hanna had found on our walk on the ...