Chapter 4 - The Relic of the Past
Adrian did not look at Eleanor. His gaze remained locked on the battered gold locket trembling between Eleanor’s fingers and Chloe’s tear-stained chest. Slowly, deliberately, Adrian reached out and peeled Eleanor’s fingers away from the antique jewelry, one by one, with the terrifying calm of an executioner.
Eleanor opened her mouth to protest, but the look in Adrian’s eyes froze her blood.
Adrian stepped between them, his broad shoulders shielding Chloe from the prying eyes of the surrounding crowd. His long fingers brushed against the cool metal of the locket. With a faint, metallic click born of decades-old hinges, he popped the locket open.
Inside, protected behind a faded pane of yellowed glass, was a tiny, black-and-white photograph. It captured a young woman with dark, gentle eyes holding an infant swathed in a faded wool blanket, smiling under a pale spring sun.
Adrian stopped breathing. The ambient noise of the ballroom seemed to recede into a vacuum. His hand began to tremble—ever so slightly—as his eyes darted from the miniature photograph up to Chloe’s wet, terrified face. The bone structure, the dark curve of her eyebrows, the exact shape of her lips under the dirt and tears. It was a mirror reflecting across twenty years of silence.
May you like
"Where did you get this?" Adrian asked, his voice dropping to a low, fractured whisper that carried a terrifying intensity.
Chloe swallowed hard, her voice trembling violently. "My mother... gave it to me before she died."
