Page 265 of Love Me in the Dark
I walk to it like it might explode. Open it with trembling hands.
Inside is a silver chain. Dull with age. Worn. Bent just slightly at the clasp from years of use.
My necklace.
My only Christmas present. The one I got when I was seven years old and still believed that maybe, somehow, I’d been good enough to deserve something. I kept it buried in a box under a floorboard in my closet. Hidden from anyone who might look.
It’s the only thing I own that I care about.
It’s here.
Which means he’s been in my home more than once. It means he didn’t just take me.
He tookeverything.
My hand closes around the chain like it might still protect me.
Like it still means something other than the truth.
But I already know?—
It means I’m not going to survive this.
The necklace is still in my hand when the door opens.
I don’t turn around. I don’t breathe. I just stand there, spine straight, fingers curled so tightly around the chain that it cuts into my palm.
His footsteps are soft. Measured.
Like he’s walking into a meeting he’s already won.
I finally turn.
He’s exactly what I remember from the coffee shop. Tall, sharp suit, emotionless face and eyes that shine with a challenge. But this time he’s not across a room or staring from a window. This time he’shere. Between me and the only exit.
His eyes find mine instantly. Then they drop to the box on the table. To the necklace in my hand. And there’s a flicker of something there—satisfaction, maybe. Or pride.
“I wasn’t sure you’d remember that,” he says.
His voice is like his suit. Expensive. Tailored. Custom-fit to disarm and control.
“It’s mine,” I say. “Of course I remember it.”
He nods once, like that confirms something for him. Then steps further into the room.
I hold my ground.
“Why do you have it?” I ask.
“You mean, why did I go into your apartment and find the only thing you ever kept hidden?”
I don’t answer. He already knows I know the truth.
“Or do you really mean to ask me why I took you?”
He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t try to soften the blow.
“I took it,” he says. “Because it mattered to you. Because you would’ve looked for it when you ran. And now you don’t have to. I’ve given you everything you need.”
