When I was thirteen, a group of relatives bought me the most beautiful watch I had ever seen. It was dainty; the oval face dotted with diamonds and emeralds. I never wanted to take it off.
My mom said I could only wear it for special occasions, but before I did, she said it must be insured in case something happened.
At thirteen, I wondered what could possibly happen. At thirteen, my point of view was the only viewpoint that mattered. So when I dressed for a special party at a country club a few days later, I put it on. My parents were out for the evening and I would be home before them, so they’d never know.
I was careful—really careful. I made sure the clasp was securely fastened and I kept looking at my wrist every few minutes to make sure it was there. I even took it off in the ladies’ room so I wouldn’t get it wet when I washed my hands.
