"Hanna Talk Cross, what secrets have you kept?" she teases, but she can't last any longer. She pulls her hand out of her pocket, dithers just a moment longer, and opens it.

The two rings on her palm look impossibly delicate, carved out of iridescent shell, their wavering rainbow patterns ethereal in the overhead light. They each even reflect a soft halo onto her hand, as if they are illuminated from within.