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The jeweler nodded, his professional mask softening for a fleeting second. He tapped a few keys on his computer, then wrote a number on a slip of paper and slid it across the counter. It was more than Elias had hoped for.
Out slid a 1964 Patek Philippe Calatrava. Its gold casing was unpolished, showing the soft patina of decades spent against a wrist, but the dial was immaculate. jewelers that buy watches
The jeweler peered through the lens, examining the movement. "The truth can be expensive. Why sell it now?" The jeweler nodded, his professional mask softening for
"My grandfather’s," Elias replied. "He was a navigator. He used to say a watch was the only piece of jewelry a man needed because it told the truth about how much time you had left." Out slid a 1964 Patek Philippe Calatrava
The heavy glass door of Vanderbilt & Sons clicked shut, muffling the roar of the city. Elias stood in the center of the plush showroom, his hand instinctively tightening around the velvet pouch in his coat pocket. He wasn’t here to buy; he was here to let go.
"I'm looking to sell," Elias said, his voice steadier than he felt. He pulled the pouch out and placed it on the black velvet tray the jeweler provided.
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