Page 9 of Knot Your Karma
I grip the phone hard enough to hear the case creak.
I’m done with his bullshit and yet here I am.
“Come on, you’re like a miracle worker with this stuff. Remember Mom’s wedding ring after the renovation? That impossible door handle for the Prescott job? You always figure it out—it’s like your superpower or something.”
I drop my arm and stare at the stained ceiling.
“Blake, those were construction projects with paper trails and contractors who kept receipts. This is a family heirloom that vanished into thin air three months ago.”
“But you’re so good at this detective stuff! And it’s just one little compass—how hard can it be?”
My hands clench into fists hard enough that my knucklescrack. The room suddenly feels too small, like the walls are closing in.
He’s still that teenaged little twit that gets anything he wants.
“It’s not just one little compass, Blake. It’s a priceless family heirloom that’s been missing for three months. I’ve been to six antique dealers today, and nobody’s seen anything matching the description.”
I move to the window. The antique shop sits on the corner below, lights still on. Something in my chest pulls tight thinking about hazel eyes and the way everything else faded when vanilla sea salt hit the air.
“Well, maybe you’re not describing it right. Maybe you should let me come up there and help?—”
The growl starts deep in my throat before I can stop it. “Blake, you lost it in the first place. I don’t think putting you in charge of finding it is going to improve our odds.”
“That’s not fair! I didn’t lose it on purpose!”
“No, you just let someone steal it because you were too busy—” I bite off the words. My free hand finds the back of my neck, muscles bunching tight.
“Too busy what, Dec? Say it.”
“Forget it.”
“No, seriously. Too busy what? Too busy living my life? Too busy not being the perfect responsible older brother who never makes mistakes?”
I press my palm against the cool glass. Down below, someone walks past the antique shop—not Karma, but my pulse jumps anyway.
“Blake, I’m trying to help you. But I need you to understand—maritime antiques move through private collections, estate sales, online auctions. It could be anywhere by now.”
“But the bonding ceremony is in four months!” Blake’s voice cracks like he’s thirteen again. “Nova’s whole pack isexpecting a traditional Mitchell bonding. I can’t show up without the compass, Dec. I’ll look like a complete failure!”
“Blake, maybe you should have thought about that before?—”
“Before what? Before I trusted the wrong person? God, Dec, you sound just like Dad. I thought you’d understand.”
“I am trying to help you.”
“Dad’s going to lose his absolute mind if I don’t have it. And Nova... God, Dec, what if she calls off the bonding? What if she decides I’m not worth it?”
He isn’t.But I keep that to myself.
The desperation in his voice hits me right where I’m weakest. Blake might be a manipulative screw-up, but he’s still my little brother.
“All right. I’ll keep looking. But Blake, you need to be prepared for the possibility that it’s gone for good.”
“It’s not gone for good. You’ll find it. You always fix things, Dec. That’s what you do—you fix everything and make it better.”
My shoulders drop, and I sink back against the headboard. The fight goes out of me all at once, leaving me feeling drained and defeated.
“I’ll do my best.”
