Without saying a word, she threw her arms around me in a tight hug.
Then she pressed something into my hand.
“It was her lucky one,” she whispered. “It’ll save you. I promise.”
When I looked down, I saw a silver flower brooch. It was old, slightly tarnished, and surprisingly heavy.
I tried to return it.
But before I could say anything, she was already gone.
The next morning unfolded exactly as I feared.
My manager, Rick, was waiting for me before I even clocked in. Security footage from the previous day was already playing on his screen.
He didn’t yell.
He simply recited company policies and explained how my actions violated store procedures.
Then he handed me my final paycheck.
Just like that, I was unemployed.
Walking out of the bookstore felt surreal. I’d lost a stable job because I followed my conscience and helped a stranger.
For days, I wondered whether I’d made a terrible mistake.
A week later, I found myself sitting in the lobby of a prestigious design firm, waiting for an interview I was certain I wasn’t qualified for.
I wore my only decent blazer.
For reasons I still can’t explain, I pinned the silver flower brooch to the lapel.
Maybe I hoped it would bring me luck.
The interview started normally until the woman across the desk suddenly stopped speaking.
Her eyes were fixed on the brooch.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
My stomach dropped.
I told her the truth.
Instead of ending the interview, she stood up and asked me to follow her.
Moments later, I entered a large corner office where an older man stood staring out a window.
When he turned around and saw the brooch, the color drained from his face.
He stepped closer, his eyes locked on the silver flower.
“Where is she?” he asked quietly.
Then he asked again.
