Aurora’s P.O.V

I paced my room, arms folded tightly against my chest as the soft flickering glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls. My fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the pendant hanging around my neck—my mother’s necklace. It had been hers for as long as I could remember, a delicate thing with an emerald set in gold, the colors always shifting from green to gold.

Tonight though, it felt different. Heavier. Warmer. As if it held a secret that ...