Compromised.

Something About That Stone

The old woman's frenzied declaration shocked you sufficiently to make you lose your grip on the coveted rock. Her wrinkly hands pry open your fingers and snatch up the jewel. She releases you from her clutch, sending your ass to the floor.

The shopkeeper holds the jewel up to the light, apparently admiring its beauty, a look of intense joy on her face.

"I have it! I have it! He will be pleased..." she says aloud. Her cheerful smile melts into an angry frown when she sees you rising from the floor. "You can't have it!" she scolds, hiding the pendant behind her back. "Now go away! Go away!" She disappears into a back room, slamming the door as she retreats.

The old lady won't get away that easily. You head behind the counter and try to open the backdoor, but it's locked. Examining the lock, you see that it's pretty old and rusty. You could probably bust through it if you really tried.

Here goes. You give yourself some distance, take a breath, and throw yourself at the rickety door. A moment later, you pick yourself up off the door, having knocked it clean off its hinges. Apparently "antique shop" refers to much more than just the merchandise.

Looking up, you see one more door at the other end of the tiny storeroom, but it is wide open, with the old lady starting up her car on the other side of it. By the time you are back on your feet and outside, the aged shopkeeper has driven off... with your precious stone.

Not yet giving up, you sprint over to the intersection, where the white sedan is slowing as it approaches Aguilar Street. Oncoming cars come to a screeching halt as the auto makes a blind right into traffic. It makes a speedy getaway from the cacophony of blaring horns and cursing motorists.

You haven't got a car, and you sure aren't going to keep up on foot.