Aurora’s POV

“Where is it? Where’s the damn thing?”

My hands flew across the vanity, scattering combs, pins, and powders onto the floor.

A jeweled brush clattered under the bed, forgotten. I ripped open drawers, slammed them shut again, each one more useless than the last.

“It was here. I know it was here!”

My voice cracked, too shrill. and I pressed my teeth against my lip.

Dropping to my knees, I yanked up cushions, shoved aside rugs, clawed through parchment stacks. My ...