Page 87 of Hidden Echoes

“The one that was taken from her the night of the accident?”

Charlie nods toward her desk, a subtle gesture, before she pulls open a drawer. With practiced ease, she retrieves a small evidence bag and tosses it to me. Inside is the familiar silver chain, simple yet sturdy, with a small padlock pendant. The lock is tarnished with age, its surface worn smooth from years of being touched, the keyhole slightly faded but still visible.

“The doctors took it off her during surgery and stuck it with her personal effects. I pulled some strings to get it back,” she says, watching my reaction. “Recognize it?”

I turn the bag over in my hands. The necklace is a little duller now, but there’s no mistaking it.

“My idiot ex-boyfriend mentioned it once,” Charlie continues, eyes sharp with intrigue. “Said it was a family heirloom. And considering where she came from, that might mean more than you think.”

I glance up. “What are you saying?”

Charlie smirks. “I’m saying that if this necklace is what I think it is, Mia wasn’t just someone in the cartel’s orbit. She was inner circle. And now, congrats, Zane. You might just be married into the mafia.”

I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. “Great. Just great.”

I think about the things Mia told me, but I don’t mention Charlie. It’s not my secret to tell. She studies me closely, her gaze weighing every inch of my expression. But before she can say anything, her phone chimes, breaking the silence.

Charlie glanced at her phone, a smile tugging at her lips. "I promise I'll look into it more later," she said, her voice light, her eyes shifting toward the door. "But for now, you’ve got a visitor."

I narrow my eyes. “Who?”

She stands, stretching dramatically before shooting me a mischievous smile. “I think you’ll like them.” Then she walks out of the room without another word.

I exhale, already regretting my existence. “You look tense,” Charlie calls over her shoulder. “Relax. You’ll love it.”

“I highly doubt that,” I mutter.

Time passes slowly, and I take the opportunity to organize my thoughts.

The bonfire night suddenly clicks into place—the way she dozed off in the pet shop, the countless times I found myself wondering how a person could sleep so much.

Also, I don’t know if I even want to talk about our marriage with anyone.

Because to Mia, I might just be a fleeting image, a projection that shifts and warps depending on the moment.

She looks at the world like it’s slipping through her fingers, like nothing is real.

But to me… she is too real. And that terrifies me.

The door opens again. But it’s not Charlie.

It’s him.

My stomach twists at the sight of Kyle standing in the doorway. My older brother, with his usual unreadable expression, stares at me with that sharp, assessing gaze he’s always had.

“Zane.” His voice is as blunt as I remember. “You stopped responding to my texts.”

I keep my posture relaxed. “I was busy.”

Kyle doesn’t call me out on the lie, but I see it in the way his jaw tenses. He knows I was avoiding him—and more importantly, avoiding Austin. Avoiding her.

“Good to know you’re still alive,” he says after a moment, his voice dry. He’s never been the sentimental type, and I appreciate that. Our conversations have always been more… technical.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I came for the Boa Festival,” he says casually.

I raise an eyebrow. “You? At a festival? With people?”

---