"Be here tomorrow morning at half past nine. The ring will be waiting for you."
Exhausted from her fruitless search, the old woman's heart, which had sunk into despair, surged with hope again.
"Do you really know how to find it?"
She eyed the young woman standing before her, a baby in her arms, dressed in a janitor's uniform.
Out sweeping the streets with a child in tow—it was obvious she didn't have much to her name.
But something about her demeanor didn't fit the role at all.
Suspicion flickered in the old lady's eyes. Had this girl found the ring and hidden it for herself?
"You're saying, if I come tomorrow, you'll return it to me?"
"Yes," Ruby replied, her tone steady and certain.
"What's your last name, young lady?"
"Grayson."
"Alright, Miss Grayson. For the sake of your poor situation as a single mother, I'll trust you—just this once," the old woman said, rising with help from her bodyguard.
"But don't think I'll let you off easily if the ring isn't found by then."
After the old woman left, Ruby's gaze drifted to the other janitor across the street—a young man living off handouts from relatives, with no family of his own.
He'd abandoned his cleaning cart and was now sprawled lazily across a bench beneath the trees, jacket pulled over his head, snoring away.
Word was he was Fiona's nephew—name was Darell.
Ruby thought of Fiona, the woman who'd set her up, and the three thousand dollars that had been mysteriously docked from her paycheck. She clenched her jaw.
This time, she had no choice but to take a risk.
By evening, the sky had faded to dusk, and streetlights blinked on one by one, glowing all the way to the horizon.
Under the lamps, a slim figure worked steadily.
Ruby had nearly finished sweeping the entire block. Just a few more minutes, and she could take Mira home.
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