I’ve always been a flea market enthusiast, drawn to the thrill of finding hidden treasures among forgotten trinkets. My husband, Sam, never understood my passion and often mocked me for bringing home what he called “junk.”

One Saturday, I spotted a modest porcelain egg at a street fair. The seller wanted $25, but I haggled him down to $10. When I proudly showed it to Sam, he laughed, pointing out “Made in Hong Kong” on the bottom. Embarrassed but determined, I shook the egg, hearing something inside.

Sam, still teasing, pried it open to reveal a tiny bundle of red silk. Inside were exquisite earrings. Dismissing them as fakes, I was shocked when Sam suggested they might be real diamonds. We rushed to a jeweler, who confirmed they were indeed diamonds and emeralds, likely from the Art Deco period, worth at least $300,000.

To our astonishment, the earrings sold at auction for three million dollars. Now, the little porcelain egg sits proudly on our mantel in our new home, and Sam has become an eager flea market companion, always on the hunt for the next big find.