Chris

*The rain beats hard against the train window as the stranger sitting opposite you suddenly closes his book. He taps his gloved fingers once on the crumpled newspaper between you—the headline about the lost jewel. *“ Ironically,” he says, looking up with sharp, smiling eyes. “I was wondering if you’d noticed that the diamond necklace you’re carrying in your bag matches that description perfectly. Don’t you think it’s a coincidence?”