In the background was an event very few realized the significance of: a brewing global financial crisis that would roil markets. Fortunes would be lost. And made.
“I’ll give you eight thousand,” the jeweler said, setting the earrings down.
“Twelve.”
“Can I see your ID?”
Adeline stared at him. “You can’t, actually.”
“Why?”
Adeline opted for the truth—or a small part of it that fit the situation. “I don’t have it on me.”
The man squinted at her, then picked up the stone again. “May I ask why you’re selling such a lovely piece?”
“Financial need. I recently lost my parents.”
Adeline was surprised at how easily the half-truth came, how comfortable she was with deception.
The man shifted the stone. “There’s something written here.”
“What?”
“I think it’s a series of numbers, but I can’t read them. The letters are too small.”
The man set the earrings down again and motioned to the corner, where a woman was working on a microscope. “It’s broken.”
Adeline wondered if this was some kind of trap—something Daniele had set up. Perhaps some way to land her in jail? Or worse, get her killed? Maybe the stones were from some dead mobster’s wife who was robbed and killed and now the entire criminal organization was looking for the assassin to exact revenge.
Adeline closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids. She really had to get control of her imagination. The engraving was probably a serial number of some kind.
“I’ll give you ten,” the man said. “But only with ID.”
*
It turned out, all the reputable jewelers around Stanford University wanted to see a government ID before purchasing ten-thousand-dollar diamond earrings. Adeline knew that because she had been to all of them.
She was walking down Alma Street contemplating going to a non-reputable jeweler when the skies opened, and rain poured down. She was so lost in her thoughts she barely felt herself getting drenched.
Would the pawnshop or shady jeweler simply rob her? They’d certainly lowball her. And there weren’t any pawn shops in walking distance—that she knew of in her time. Maybe not here in 2008 either. Assuming she found one, maybe they’d pay and have someone jump her outside, in an alley or at the bus stop, taking the money back.
She had to get her hands on an ID. That was the long and short of it. But how? In her mind’s eye, she saw herself walking by the windows of bars, peering in until she found someone who looked like her. She would go inside and hop on the stool beside the girl, waiting for her to go to the bathroom, and then slip her hand inside a backpack or purse and snatch the ID and make a run for it.
That would never work. She’d probably get caught red-handed. The bartender would likely stop her. Or another patron. She was becoming a liar, but she wasn’t a pickpocket yet. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
And besides, how many people would be out drinking in the afternoon? And even if they were, the odds of finding someone who looked like her were remote. She had to play the odds now. Time was running out.
What did that leave?
The dorms.
She would stalk the dorms on campus. Somebody’s room would be open. She’d slip inside and find an ID lying on a desk, waiting for her.
Or the library. Yes, that was an even better idea. Find someone who looked like her, sitting at a study carrel or long table and plop down beside them with a stack of magazines, wait until they went to the bathroom, and grab their ID.
Adeline was a little shocked at herself—that her mind could adapt to crime and deception so easily.
But this was survival. She was alone in a strange land with no one to call, no help, and no money. If she let herself think about it, it was terrifying. But she wasn’t going to think about it. She was going to focus on the task in front of her and do it—
“Dear, are you okay?”
Adeline looked up to find an older woman with a large umbrella and a small white dog pulling at the end of a pink leash. With the hand holding the umbrella, she pointed to Adeline’s chest.
“Are you… bleeding?”
Adeline looked down and saw black and red splotches spreading out on her white dress, just above her left breast. She reached a hand up and felt a plastic sleeve there, the one that held her intern badge from Absolom Sciences. It hung from the lanyard, which was Absolom blue but had no words on it. Adeline had planned to shred the plastic ID when she got the chance. She certainly couldn’t take it out here. Absolom Sciences didn’t exist yet.