It was a secret to no one that knew them that Cyla adored jewelry. It wasn't just an accessory to them; it was a language of its own. There was an unspoken expression in every piece worn on any person as far as they were concerned. Each piece had a story to tell, a sentiment or a sparkle that spoke of its creation and purpose. On this particular morning, Cyla woke up with an all too familiar itch. They sat before their vanity mirror, head hanging over a box of all sorts of bracelets ...
