The statue sat on the glass display case, uncaring as the man and woman standing on either side of it argued. They bumped the case with their gestures, rocking the small figurine on its uneven base, as their words grew more and more heated.
"We had a deal!" the woman yelled. "I have emails, from you, agreeing to $500 for this piece!" She waved her phone at the man as if it wielded some kind of magic.
The man growled in response. "That was before I learned its history. Its worth!" the man yelled. "It's worth ten times what we agreed, which you obviously knew! You were trying to rob me!" The case rocked a bit more as the man's belly bumped against it while he jabbed an accusing finger her way.
"Me?" the woman shrieked, "rob you? You're the one committing robbery here, and..." she began to dig in her purse, then raised a small revolver from it and pointed it at the man, "I don't have to take it!"
The man barely had time to raise his hands, palms out, to try and placate the woman before the small space exploded with the sound of a gun shot. Then another. The bullets slammed into him like the worst punches he'd ever felt and he gasped for breath, then his body went limp and he fell to the ground.
The woman grabbed the figurine from the case and shoved it into her dark purse, where it nestled up against a key fob and an old, forgotten lipstick.
Hours passed before the figurine saw the light again, a brief moment in which a latex gloved hand transferred it to a clear bag marked 'Evidence', the placed the bag in a cardboard box.
Much more time passed, so much that, had the little stone figure been able to tell time it would have lost track. Then, suddenly, its box jostled with movement and it opened. Light streamed in and illuminated the contents, which were then removed and sorted into separate bins. The one that received the figurine was marked 'Auction'.
The auction itself was a whirlwind of movement and sound which surrounded the little uncaring statuette until it was placed on a pedestal and sold for a surprising amount of money. The old man who collected it handled it carefully and rested it on his lap while his driver took him home.
Once there, he placed it under a glass display on a red velvet pillow. A young woman bounded down the stairs just as the man finished locking the display.
"Is that it, Daddy? Is that the statue?" she asked in an excited voice. Her red curls bounced around her bright and round face. The rich man looked down at her and smiled his small, reserved smile, though his eyes lit up with joy.
"Yes, my dear," he said. His voice was quiet and strong and he rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder as she bent down to peer through the glass. "That is indeed the statue. Can you believe this tiny thing has caused so much grief in its existence?" He allowed himself a disbelieving sigh and continued, "Death has always followed it, wherever it goes..."
"Well, it's here now, Daddy. Did it bring Death with it?" She asked, peering up at him with her bright green eyes.
The rich man chuckled at her question, his eyes warm, and patted her on the head. "No, dear one. It did not bring Death with it." He pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead, then walked away with another small chuckle. He shook his head, marveling at how his little girl could always bring light to his life.
The young woman pressed her face close to the glass and stared at the little stone figure. The glass fogged with her breath, expanding and contracting as she spent minutes admiring the piece. Finally she smiled.
"You're going to be mine, someday," she whispered. "All mine."
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