She looks up from examining the shadowbox, still smiling. "I suppose if it had been something more commonplace I might not have recognized it. I don't suppose many other people's mothers had a broken beer bottle from a bar fight nicely framed for display for them."

It's a lie on her part, too--she has an excellent memory, able to recall facts and visions committed to it, and she likely would've recognized most anything of hers. But that's a weird sort of thing to admit to, especially with someone you've only just met.

She pauses to stop a passing waitress, to order a strong black coffee, before returning to the conversation. "Anyway, I'm very grateful to have it back, even if I don't understand why I have it in the first place."