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Mackenzie’s locket.
The one she wears under her shirt. The one she never takes off.
I let the pieces fall across my palm. The chain has snapped in two places, and there’s an ugly crack across the front of the locket. I notice it’s not gold, but gold-plated. Odd that Mackenzie Malloy would wear something so cheaply made. An inscription on the back reads, ‘To our daughter.’
As I close my fingers, the cracked piece breaks away and the locket falls open, revealing two faded photographs cut to fit inside.
I stare at the pictures.
Wait.
What?
Mackenzie
I stand in the study, facing the wall of books. Tomes on ancient history, military achievements, economic theory, and traditional medicines of the world glare down at me, the spines rigid with silent accusation. I grip the edge of the desk and suck in a breath, fighting to bring air to my frozen lungs.
The door to the panic room hangs open. I rub my thighs together – they ache from being wrapped around Noah. But it’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
I have to send them away. It’s the only thing I can think to do. They were supposed to be a bit of fun for me – a chance to live out the teen movie fantasy life that was stolen from me the night I woke up in my own grave. But I can’t have them like this. I can’t keep them. They’re not mine to keep.
I’m a fucking idiot. I let myself get attached to all of them – beautiful, broken Gabriel, kind, intense Eli, even sulky, bitter Noah – and that’s put everything in danger. Not just our plan, but their lives. If what Noah says is true, if his dad hired this Brentwood guy to take out—
“Mackenzie.”
I whirl around. Eli stands in the doorway, his back rigid, an unreadable expression on his usually warm face. He holds out his hand in a fist, palm facing up.
“Your locket fell off. That’s what happens when you wear cheap chains like this – they snap when you least want them to.”
Shit. Shit.
“Eli—”
Eli opens his hand. My locket tumbles from his fingers and bounces on the rug. The pieces fall apart, revealing the photographs of my parents I keep inside.
Of my real parents.
Eli turns to me, and I read my betrayal in his features.
He told me that he can’t handle being lied to, not after losing me the first time. I knew that, and I’ve done it all the same.
“Eli, I can explain.”
But I can’t. Not in a way that he’d understand. And so I do what I always do around these guys, I go silent. I hide behind the mask I created.
Except Eli has just ripped my mask away and stomped on it. The locket is broken, the life I stole on display for all to see. I can’t put the pieces of my lie back together again. And I didn’t want to.
“That’s not Howard and Ainsley Malloy in these photographs. You’re not Mackenzie Malloy.” Eli’s face hardens to stone. “Who the fuck are you?”
TO BE CONTINUED
George is Claws’ best friend, and she has her work cut out for her when she heads to university and her roommate mysteriously disappears. Read Pretty Girls Make Graves, set in the world of Stonehurst Prep.
http://books2read.com/prettygirlsmakegraves
“I’ll do anything it takes to get into an Ivy League. I’ll even become theirs.” Find out what the second generation of Stonehurst Prep teens get up to a new dark high school romance, Poison Ivy – http://books2read.com/elite1
Get your free copy of Cabinet of Curiosities, a Steffanie Holmes compendium of short stories and bonus scenes. To get this collection, all you need to do is sign up for updates with the Steffanie Holmes newsletter.
