Prologue

Willow - Twelve Years Ago / Age Fifteen

Arhythmictonepullsme from a weird dream and into the present. I try opening my eyes, but my eyelids feel heavy and the brightness behind them makes me pause.

As the fog lifts from my mind, I open my mouth for air, but nothing happens. Panic rises as a throbbing pain radiates inside me. I can’t swallow. I can’tbreathe.

Thrashing from side to side, I lift my hands to grip my neck, but they barely move. There’s a disconnect between my mind and body. Nothing is working.

The beeping gets louder as I continuously gasp, desperately working to fill my lungs. Something scratches the walls of my throat, and I gag a few times until the air finally flows and that panic subsides.

For a heartbeat.

The relief is short-lived as a new pain takes over. A pain so bad it feels like I’m being stabbed in the head, and I can’t stop myself from crying out. At least, I think I do, but the ringing in my ears makes it difficult to hear.

I try lifting my hands again, and this time they move, albeit slowly, allowing me to grip my head, desperate to stop the throbbing ache threatening to drive me to tears.

I can’t cry. I’m not a crier.

A door creaks before whispers flow around me, but with the way they filter into my mind, distant and echoed, I’m not even convinced they’re real. I’m not even convinced any of this is real until I feel a pinch on my arm, and the sting of it brings everything into focus.

I’m not alone.

A tingling sensation shoots up my arm before a warmth spreads throughout my body. And as my head lolls to one side, a vision plays on my mind. It’s patchy and confusing, but I can sense the full extent of it lingering just out of reach…

“What’s the rush?” I call out, trudging through the trees as we make our way through the forest.

“Why are you going so slowly?” she counters with a laugh.

Ignoring the fact that she sounds a little off, I try to keep up, but hate that I’m missing the views.

The beeping starts up again, or maybe it was always there, only now it’s louder and more frantic. My heart pounds in my chest, almost matching the incessant sound, while my head spins and my body sinks into the pillowy goodness beneath me.

My mind drifts again, and this time the vision has my chest tightening in pain.

“Stop! Don’t. Get away from me. You don’t understand.”

I try to scream “no” but the fog overwhelms me, and the last thing I see is her terrified expression before I succumb to the darkness once more.

Chapter One

Willow - Present day

“Goddammit.Anotherone?”Ihold the broken gold clasp up to my face and sigh.Why can’t I get it right?Once again, I’ve set unrealistic expectations on myself, but here I am, at—I glance down at my phone—shit, ten p.m., and I’m still working away.

No one except my friend Sara even knows I’m doing this, so I’m not on any timeline. This is just for me. And yet, I can’t help feeling like a failure at the end of every day, when my little display cabinet remains empty.Maybe because I feel like thatevery day, regardless of what I do.

Picking up the fine 18 karat chain, I coil it in my palm and run my finger along the twisted links. It’s almost finished. Something that’s been consuming my life foryearsis close to completion. I should be proud of myself. I made this. From scratch. No one in the world has this design. And it’s beautiful. But I feel empty. I can’t even bring myself to finish it and get the damn clasp to work. It’s almost like I’m sabotaging myself, knowing that when it’s done, people will judge me for it. And I’m not ready for that to happen. I don’t enjoy the attention.

After gently placing the piece back into its box, I secure it in my safe and start closing up, something I should have done hours ago. I’m just about to flick the lock on the back door when my phone rings, making me jump.

“Hello?” I rush out without checking the screen.

“You’re still there, aren’t you?” Sara’s friendly, yet mildly concerned voice comes through the speaker, and I grimace. She’s about to scold me.

“Y…yes?” I hesitate, hating to admit it out loud when I told her I was leaving at six. I’m never here this late, but with the celebrations coming up this weekend, my days have been a lot busier than usual.

“Willow! It’sten.”