Work Text:
If she could just forget the necklace, everything would be fine.
If she could forget her momentary glimpse of it, gold nestled against red silk, inside a white box; the days of considering what she might wear with it. It was her Christmas present, clearly. Who else could it be for?
If she could just forget Mia. Forget the sight of Harry dancing with her. Forget all the things that Mia was that she was not: slender, re-lipped. Young and doting.
In the months since Christmas, Karen had found it within her to forgive. She only wished she could forget.