Chapter 4

I drove home, my hands shaking on the wheel.

I needed to talk to Michael.

He'd know what to do. He'd tell me this was all crazy.

I let myself into the quiet house.

Max greeted me with a happy bark, her tail thumping.

Then I heard it.

Michael's voice.

Hushed. From his study.

"...yes, Chloe, the locket's influence is definitely working. Her doctor's already noticed complications."

My breath caught in my throat.

Chloe. He was talking to Chloe.

"Just a little longer," Michael continued. "Her inevitable breakdown will make things so much easier for us. The trust fund... it'll all be sorted."

Betrayal.

Cold and sharp.

It cut through me.

Michael. My Michael.

And Chloe. My best friend.

Conspiring.

Against me. Against our baby.

The locket. It wasn't just some antique.

It was their tool.

Blackwood's words came back. "Transfer its burden."

The new moon. Three days.

I looked at Max, her belly round with puppies.

Desperation clawed at me.

My baby. I had to protect my baby.

My hands trembled as I unclasped the locket from my neck.

Max whined softly, nudging my hand.

"I'm so sorry, girl," I whispered.

I fastened the locket onto her collar.

She wagged her tail, oblivious.

Footsteps.

Michael came out of the study, a concerned look plastered on his face.

"Sarah? You're home early. You look pale. Is everything alright?"

His voice, so full of fake concern.

It made me sick.

Then his eyes fixed on Max.

On the locket around her neck.

His face changed.

A flicker of something dark. Agitation.

"What's that on Max?" he asked, his voice tight.

"It's... it's just the locket," I stammered.

"Why is it on the dog? Sarah, you know Chloe gave that to you. It's a symbol of your bond, of her support. You should be wearing it."

He reached for Max's collar.

Max growled.

A low, warning sound I'd never heard from her before.

Michael froze.

Then, his face hardened.

He grabbed Max, his fingers digging into her fur.

She yelped.

He unclasped the locket.

"Give me your hand," he said, his voice cold.

No.

He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron.

He forced the locket back into my palm, then guided my hand to fasten it around my own neck.

The metal felt icy.

Then, a wave of intense nausea hit me.

A sharp cramp doubled me over.

Michael watched, his expression unreadable.

"See?" he said softly. "It belongs with you."