Jasmine gives me alook, and I try not to roll my eyes. Message received, cousin. She’s already drilled into my head that her parents can’t know about her body hunt. I’m not a snitch, so I’ve been keeping my mouth shut. For now. But if I notice Jasmine getting in over her head, then I have no qualms about telling my aunt and uncle.
“Ugh, what now?” she grumbles, grimacing at her mother. “I swear I already finished my homework for tomorrow.”
“Ugh,”Maggie mimics. “But I still don’t see those clothes in the closet.”
Eyebrow raised, she nods toward the laundry basket full of folded clothing that sits at the foot of Jasmine’s bed.
“I’ll do it before bed,” Jasmine says, a slight whine in her voice.
“Or,” Maggie replies with a bright smile, “you’ll do it now.”
I hide a grin. The more I get to know my aunt, the more I like her. She has her hands full with the drama that is Jasmine, but she can definitely hold her own against her daughter.
“Fine.”Heaving a sigh, Jasmine closes her laptop and hops off the bed.
“Good girl.” With a pleased nod, Maggie disappears down the hall.
The moment she’s gone, Jasmine turns away from the laundry basket and climbs back onto the bed. I sigh as she buries her face in her laptop again, but Jasmine is like a dog with a bone.There’s no prying the lure of that million-dollar reward out of her hands.
When I spot my own pile of neatly folded clothes, guilt spurs me into putting it away. I’m not used to having someone else do my laundry. Or someone cooking me dinner. Driving me to school. Gran taught me to fend for myself. She worked as a receptionist at a twenty-four-hour women’s clinic in the city and came home late most evenings.
I tuck the clothes into my drawer, then tidy up my little corner of the room. The rings and bracelet I wore yesterday are strewn on the nightstand, so I gather them and put them in the small wooden box where I keep my jewelry. I’m about to close the lid when I notice it. Or rather, when Idon’tnotice it. My necklace isn’t in there.
I frown, rummaging through the box before automatically reaching for my throat. Maybe I put it on this morning and just—no, it’s not around my neck. And I’m positive I haven’t worn it since…I scan my brain, struggling to remember. I definitely didn’t wear it this weekend. I think.
I empty out my jewelry box and then place every item back inside, one by one, but the heart-shaped diamond locket is nowhere to be found. Whereisit? As a surge of panic rises in my chest, I frantically search through my sheets, toss my pillows aside, dig through my bag.
But it’s gone.
My necklace is gone.
nine
A Piece of My Mother
“Jas?” My voice comes out tight. I try to keep it even, but I can’t mask the panic. “Have you seen my necklace?”
“What necklace?”
“My locket. The diamond heart one.” I race toward the dresser to rifle through the knickknacks on top of it. “The one my grandmother gave me.”
My pulse speeds up. I yank open my dresser drawers, pushing clothes aside, pulling out socks and underwear, but it’s not here.
“Why would I have seen it?” my cousin asks.
“I don’t know, maybe you moved it or something?” I turn around to find her lips pressed in a thin line.
“Are you saying I took it?” Jasmine demands.
“No, of course not—”
“Really? Because it sure sounds like it!” Her voice rises. “Just because something goes missing, you automatically assume I took it? Like I’d steal your stupid necklace?”
The panic is clawing at my throat now. “No, I…I thought maybe you saw it somewhere.”
Jasmine jumps up from the bed, eyes flashing. “You seriously think I’m the kind of person who’d just take your shit?”
“It’s not like that!” I insist, but she’s already on the defensive.
