As the reception continued, Ben seemed to lose interest in the mysterious lady and her supposed spiders. He returned to his seat, picking at the food on his plate, seemingly unaffected by the commotion he had inadvertently caused. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it all.

By the time we left the restaurant, the evening sky painted in hues of purple and pink, I had made a decision. I would ask around, discreetly, see if anyone knew the woman or the story behind the brooch. I couldn’t dismiss the strange events entirely, not when they seemed to intertwine so unsettlingly with my son’s vivid tale.