Page 55 of Property of Mako
I prayed he was right.
I sat cross-legged on the bed, the phone tucked against my shoulder as I sifted through the bag I’d hauled from home. Clothes tumbled in a wrinkled mess, along with stray receipts, an old brush, a small tin of horse balm.
“Abby, I owe you about a hundred trail rides and twice as many drinks,” I murmured, smiling faintly as I pulled out Lily’s sketchbook. Unable to leave it behind, I’d grabbed it.
Her laugh warmed me, even through the crackling line. “They’re fine. Bonnie’s still moody, but I bribed her with carrots. But seriously, Lyra… when are you coming home? The barn feels empty without you.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet. Things are… complicated.”
“Dangerous, you mean.”
Unsure how much I should say, I hesitated. “We found Lily,” I finally whispered.
Abby went quiet. Then, softly: “You did? Is she safe?”
“Yes,” I said, relief thickening my throat. “She’s with me now. She’s safe.”
“Good.” Abby sighed, shaky but sincere. “That’s all that matters.”
We said our goodbyes, with me promising her at least two bottles of her favorite wine. When I set the phone down, my fingers brushed something cool in the corner of the bag. I pulled it free and froze.
A golden sun and moon pendant dangled from its chain, glinting in the dim light.
Lily’s necklace.
The one Lily had left behind when she went missing. The same one I’d hidden away years ago, when I was barely more than a child myself. My chest constricted as memories clawed up—my father’s cold face, my mother’s tight smile as they told me the story we’d sell to the world, the “sister” they would raise as their daughter while I lived in silence with the truth.
The note. The necklace. For the baby, when she’s old enough.
The sketchbook, I remember packing. I didn’t remember shoving the necklace in my bag, but then again, I’d been in a hurry.
I’d given it to Lily for her sixteenth birthday last year. After she’d been clean for a year. It had seemed to ground her, thinking it was from “our dad.” I closed my fist around it, shaking, as the door creaked open.
Calix stepped inside, his dark presence filling the space. His gaze caught the pendant immediately, and something raw flickered across his face—shock, recognition, something sharper.
His voice was a blade. “Where did you get that?”
I blinked, clutching it instinctively. “It’s Lily’s. I found it in my bag.”
He moved closer, tension rippling off him. Without a word, he opened a drawer in the dresser—a hidden panel I hadn’t noticed before—and drew out another necklace. Identical.
My breath caught.
“This belonged to my sister,” he said, his voice ragged, eyes locked on the twin pendants.
The world tilted beneath me, and I grabbed the headboard to steady myself.
“I… don’t understand,” I whispered, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.
His eyes narrowed, suspicious, searching. “I’ll ask again—where did you get it?”
I swallowed hard, heat crawling up my neck. “It came from Lily’s father.” The lie trembled, my tongue tripping. “I mean… our father.”
Calix’s stare pinned me to the spot.
By some miracle, I forced my face to remain still, but inside I was shaking. Because what I’d just said wasn’t the truth at all.
The truth was a secret I’d carried for over sixteen years.
