I watch the man appraise the stones. His forehead folds in a frown of concentration. I can tell he is about to be dishonest, though. It is their signature look. They give this air of thoughtfulness and then lie through their teeth, preying on the naivete of the seller.

He groans as if his examination of the stone took more effort than holding it up and looking at it through the lens in his left hand. He puts one down and picks another—eight stones in all. Eve wants us to start small.

It would be a big help to find someone who can sell the stones, but it will be less helpful if we get in trouble while finding the said person. I am stronger now, but I am not sure I can take someone twice my size and weighs just enough to slap life out of my eyes.

"He is a criminal," Eve says, and I nodded. Most of them are criminals. Not prominent time characters—small-time thieves that were either dumb or unlucky. Or both.

The number 1099, written in a fancy font, was on the man's arm. Most inmates do that, some symbol that makes no sense to most, only to him.

His shop smells old and stale. Some of them were worthless, most of them. I could see worn tires and old chests polished but still looking like they have seen better days. Through the glass that separates us, I can see a gun behind him. It looks old and tired. Probably set up as a warning.

"What do you think?" I ask. I look from his face to the stone before switching back to the rock. I need to get home and sleep. Tomorrow is another day of killing mini-monsters and supplying our new royal friend with what I promised.

"Hmmm…." The sound came off as a vibration. His frown is deeper now, and I see that he is getting himself into character. I can guess what he is about to say, and I can tell Eve is fuming already.

"These are beautiful, young lad," He says, and I smile, surprised. I nod. He puts one stone up in the air and chuckles. "The cut is amazing, and the size…" he shakes his head sadly as if he is about to die now that he has seen something as beautiful as the stones.

"It is almost perfect," he says, and I nod again. "But they are fake," he says, and his face hardens. I frown, and his eyes come down on me. I can see what he is expecting me to see—rage, disappointment, some show of power.

I sigh.

Some weeks ago, I might have been shaken. Now, all I feel is a certain kind of tiredness. I nod and make to gather the stones to take with me, and he puts his hands over them. I look up at him, his eyes staring at me intensely.

He is a veteran in the business of bullying people. I look at the gun behind me and then quickly at him. I realize I am still afraid. I can make more stones. I can sell more. I don't need to fight over these.

"What the hell are you ta—" I tune Eve off in my head, still staring at the man. His shoulders are thick, his head is round, and his hair is short to look like he has been in the army. He most likely wasn't but wanted people to assume he had some combat history. I sigh and shake my head.

"What's your name?" I ask, staring at him. My mouth feels a bit dry, and where our hands touch, I hope he can't tell I am trying not to shake. One of his brows shot up.

"Franklin, boy," He says, and I nod. Outside, his name is written in bold at the top of the shop. I smile and lean on the counter leisurely. Franklin's eyes don't move from mine, and that is how I like it.

"Franklin, I'm sure you are not stupid," I say, and he grips my hand. I look down at my hand and then back at his face. My heart is racing now, and I know I will have to throw up soon. "Look at me, Franklin. Do I look like the kind of guy who owns gemstones?"

I watch his eyes go over me—my face, my hair with its receding hairline and weak posture. My clothes further drive home what I want him to see, and when I feel his hand loosen on me, I hold on and pull him closer. He glares, and I smile.

"The people who own these stones are real hard cases, not pretenders like you. I don't need to tell you their names, right?" I ask, and he nods slowly, his eyes full of regret. I wonder what is going on in his head. Eve chuckled.

"You think they will be happy when I come back empty-handed?" I ask, and Franklin groans. He can yank me and pull my head through the hole if he wants. At least, that is the idea his barrel chest and thick neck gave. But he is just as weak as me now that he thinks I have a gang behind me.

"I am just the messenger," I say, and I can see him creating possibilities in his head. That is the power of the unknown, I guess. "Now, it will be even better if I go back with their cash, and we forget you almost stole something that can put you in a box and tossed in some river."

Franklin's eyes stare at me, trying to appraise me before he nods his understanding. I let go of his hand, and he staggers back a bit. I can't wait to leave his shop. My heart is thudding so fast it almost hurts.

"You don't need to do anything extra, Franklin. I just want what the stones are worth," I say, and he nods frantically. I feel a tiny smear of guilt, and even that fades when Eve hisses.

Eve doesn't stop laughing outside his shop, not even as we walk back home.

"I guess your face has its uses, huh?" Eve says. I want to give a retort, but I can't stop my heart steady, and my tongue feels thick. I wonder what I would have done if he had seen through my lies.

"It was a perfect lie," Eve says, and I agree. That was the first time he saw me, and it will be the last. I needed someone reliable and trustworthy.

"I told you it was a bad idea," Eve says, and I shrug. I have money now. I need to get a good diamond or something good enough to absorb. As I think about what to do, I can hear Eve laughing.