Something was missing when she came home the previous night. It was as if a piece of her had been snatched away when she was turned the other way, leaving her uneasily off balance. Her hands felt every pocket, checked the seams of her wallet, and her mind worked furiously, retracting every step, but it wasn’t until the morning when she came face to face with her reflection in the mirror that she knew what was gone.

He was already on his way, his bicycle bringing him back to the previous night. Down the parking lot, through the creaky gate, onto the shed, somewhat clumsily, from where he slid onto the school roof. The scene was so different in the sunlight. He leaned against the post that jutted out from the roof, just as they had done the night before, as if he had never went home at all. Distracted, he reminded himself what he had come for, and began to explore the area, searching, feeling, patiently looking for what had spent the night on the roof.

Meanwhile, in front of the mirror, her hands rose to her face, tucking her hair behind her left ear, giving her a clear view of the lobe. It was bare. Her eyes flickered gently to her other ear, where a long hook held a delicate, gold plated flower and a turquoise bead.

At last, his hand reached out to grasp it, and he held his breath as he opened his palm. The gold glinted back at him, and he closed his eyes.