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“Maybe she wanted you to see something or know something.”
“About her?”
“Possibly. Or maybe it was about how she died.”
I drew in my brows as I let that sink in.
“Did you notice anything in the vision?”
“No. I mean, of course I noticed her and the doll she was holding. I’m pretty sure it was the same exact one we found at the site.”
“Lucas, have you ever thought about why you wanted to be an archeologist?”
Hollie’s question caused me to take a moment to truly think about it. “I love history and discovering things that have been lost.”
She smiled. “Have you opened the locket yet?”
With a shake of my head, I replied, “No.”
“Maybe we should open it.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled the locket out and stared down at it. “What do you think is inside?”
“I’m not sure, but there’s only one way to find out.”
I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes. The image of little Charlotte clutching her doll popped into my mind. That’s when I realized she had been wearing the locket all along. I opened my eyes and looked at Hollie.
“She was wearing the locket in the vision.”
“That’s not surprising; it was her locket.”
“Right,” I said as I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Without stalling any longer, I opened the locket and stared at the painted portrait inside. It was in near-perfect condition.
“What is it?” Hollie asked.
Blinking at it, I slowly looked up. “It’s…you.”
“What?” Hollie reached for the locket and then paused. “Every time I touch this locket, she moves.”
“Hollie, look at the painting. It is you.”
She glanced down and drew in a breath. Her eyes lifted to meet mine.
“Was this Charlotte’s mother?” I whispered.
“I don’t know. How do we find out? Who do we talk to, where do we go?”
Someone cleared their throat and we both looked up to see Hollie’s mother, Elaine, standing there.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
She smiled, walked over to us, and sat down on the table in front of the sofa.
Looking from Hollie to me, she drew in a breath and then slowly exhaled. “Charlotte’s mother Elizabeth had a best friend named Sara Windsor. They were inseparable. I’m not sure if Sara had the gift of magick—it was only ever recorded in one place and the writing wasn’t very clear. She never married, and she was like a second mother to Charlotte after Elizbeth died in childbirth. According to Charlotte’s brother, Matthew, Sara wasn’t the least bit sad when Elizbeth passed away in childbirth. Matthew wrote in his journal that she’d started to take it upon herself to care for John, Charlotte, and Matthew more and more. Apparently, Matthew overheard Sara telling his father she was with child. She wanted him to marry her and to claim the child as his own.”
“Was he the father?”
“No. When Matthew asked his father about it, he told his son that he’d never touched Sara. He couldn’t do that to Elizbeth. In his journal, Matthew wrote that Sara became so enraged she threatened the entire family. He believed that Sara set fire to the homestead. He could never prove it, but he made a vow to his little sister that he would find out who killed her and their father. Matthew stated that a man from London named William Merlin showed up in Salem not long after. He was wealthy and looking for a wife to care for his young daughter after his own wife had died on their voyage across the ocean. Sara must have convinced him to marry her.”
