The girl’s eyes filled with tears.

“My mommy said that ring was proof.”

“Proof of what?” the elderly woman asked sharply.

“Proof that she married him.”

The man behind them stepped closer.

The elderly woman laughed nervously.

“My son was never married.”

The girl slowly reached into her pocket.

Pulled out a folded document.

A marriage certificate.

Signed.

Stamped.

Dated.

The exact year the elderly woman sent her son overseas.

The woman’s breath stopped.

“Who gave you that?” she whispered.

The girl looked up.

“My mommy said you destroyed everything else.”