Three rings with dark blue stones lay on the white tablecloth. While he was alive, their father had told each daughter she would receive the ring their mother wore at her wedding. Now all three were at the same table for the first time since the funeral. Nobody touched the food.
Vera, the eldest, immediately recognized a scratch on the band. Hana, the middle sister, pointed to the same scratch on her own ring. Nela, the youngest, tried joking that their father had clearly appreciated mass production. The joke fell flat. To each of them, the ring was proof that she was the one he had told the truth.
Vera had cared for him during his final years. Hana had sent money from abroad. Nela visited rarely, but she could talk to him about their mother without an argument. Within half an hour, they were listing visits, bills and missed birthdays. Their partners withdrew to the kitchen.
They called Sanela, the jeweler whose receipt was in the box. She arrived in her work apron, having closed her shop only briefly. Vera demanded to know which ring was the original. Hana offered to pay for an expert appraisal. Nela opened her phone, ready to record the verdict.
Sanela laid the rings in a row. Their father had brought her one old ring and ordered two identical copies, including the scratch. He had asked her to renew the markings on all three. "I know which one I first held in my hand," she said, "but he never told me to use his decision as a measure of you."
From her pocket, she took an envelope left with the order. Inside, he had written that he was tired of trying to promise each of them a special kind of reassurance, so he had made three identical promises. It was not an admirable excuse. Hana cried with anger. Vera said he should have spoken to them while he could still hear their answers.
Nela turned off the camera. She asked whether the stones could be removed from all three rings. Sanela nodded. The sisters talked for a long time, this time about their mother. They remembered that she disliked wearing the ring while cooking and often kept it in a box of buttons. In their stories, the object suddenly grew smaller, and the woman who had worn it became much more real.
They agreed on three different pendants. Each kept a stone, without a certificate of precedence. Vera invited both sisters to Sunday lunch the following month. Hana asked whether she should send money for groceries. "Bring a cake," Vera replied. Nela arrived early and, for the first time, did not wait for someone to ask her to set the table.