Page 42 of When Hearts Surrender

I strain a smile.What on earth is this crap?“This is acursewe’re talking about, something that has no scientific basis. Come on, girls. I don’t even need to know the details. This isridiculous.”

It has to be.

Silas brushes himself against my ankle and I look down, finding his lone eye staring at me intently, his tongue not sticking out, tail not wagging.

He looks somber.

I flinch as the sweat drips down my back and a chill crawls up my spine.

This is ridiculous. Insanity. It may be my year of yeses—a new attitude and all that—but I won’t lose my common sense.

Wiping my sweaty palms on my navy sundress, I shake my head at my best friends. “Well, I don’t believe it. Someone will have to give me cold hard facts before I believe any of it.”

Grace suddenly grins. “You know, this means we’re going to be sisters for real!”

“Oh my God, you’re right! That is, if Ryland and I…” Millie’s voice trails off, herface flushed.

“Oh shut up. That man is crazy about you. You might as well be married.” Taylor grins.

Warmth flutters through me as I look at my best friends.Sisters. I like that idea.

Blowing out a breath, I turn around to look at my reflection in the window of the shop behind me. I’m sure I look crazy with my hair sticking to my sweaty skin and the makeup melting off my face.

I freeze at what I see inside the window display.

Chapter 16

I look up atthe store sign.Wraithmoor Antiquities.

My breathing catches—this is the place Maxwell wanted me to go to pick up my mysterious gift.

I press my hands to the glass, not caring if I’m smudging the window.

“What are you looking at?” Millie asks from behind me.

“I found it. Something old and something blue.” I point to the necklace displayed on a bed of white silk.

It’s beautiful—breathtaking. It’s a silver oval locket adorned with pearls, gems, and delicate floral carvings on the face, each petal adorned in gold, silver, or rose gold. Sparkling sapphires and tourmaline are interspersed between the flowers, the display light illuminating every glimmer of ocean blue and teal.

I can’t look away.

My face presses against the window. My breath fogs up the glass despite the suffocating heat surrounding us.

A mysterious yearning grips my heart in a vise as my pulse scatters in a wild rhythm.

I need that locket. It’s mine.

“The chain is long enough for me to tuck into my gown,” I murmur, my fingers twitching, eager to touch it and fasten it around my neck. “And the silhouette and inscription inside,” I whisper, my eyes glued to the shiny jewelry.

“What silhouette and inscription? What chain?” Grace shakes me and I draw in a quick breath, my eyes finally pulling away to look at my friend who’s scrunching her forehead in concern.

“The silver jeweled chain, the silhouette of the woman, and—” I turn back to the necklace, and a gasp tumbles from my mouth.

Only the locket is displayed. And it’s closed, no chain to be seen.

“I could’ve sworn…” I trail off as unease swirls inside me.

I wipe the thin mist of sweat on my forehead. It must be the heat wave, my overactive imagination, and all this talk of family curses and strange deaths.

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