From Lowa's contest, "100 word heist."
297Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjQB0uFISbG
I pretended to study the ugly canvas on the wall of a woman cradling a newborn on a basket chair. It was so horrible, I would’ve believed her daughter had drawn it—if I didn't know she had no daughter.
Clementine had left me in the kitchen, leaving her trust in me because I was her close friend's daughter. What she also left was a necklace, which my mother requested as her final death wish, claiming Clementine stole the necklace from her years ago and hadn’t returned it out of bitterness.
I had shoved the necklace in my jeans, called out to thank Clementine, and scurried out the door.
297Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlhdJi5TfVH
297Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcd0cupQoKp
"Mama. The necklace," I whispered, kissing her clammy forehead.
"Darling, I've changed my mind."
"What?"
She heaved a shuddering breath.
297Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYOfqDsCXXh
"I've changed my mind. I was the one who stole it from her, anyways."
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