It was in a blue velvet draw string pouch. I could hear the delicate tinkling of the rattle before I let it fall into my hand.
A simple, sterling silver piece, fashioned as a bracelet almost. With a ball that connects the two ends of the ring.
I held it in my hand and saw on the rounded surface of the ball, Cason's initials engraved, tiny and perfect, just like him.
I started to thank her and she, a dear friend of my mother's who had brought this to me, told me to look closer.
I turned it over in my hand and there, tiny and perfect on the other side, were Caleb's initials.
Instead of saying thank you, I cried in her arms.