Chapter 6

Zora paused abruptly, her hand stopping mid-search.

Then she dropped to her knees, frantically shaking out every piece of clothing, flipping through every notebook, and searching every corner.

It was gone.

The silver lock was gone.

That keepsake locket, polished smooth over the years, was put around her neck by her mother the day she was kidnapped at age three. At the orphanage, older kids tried to snatch it, but she fought tooth and nail to get it back. After being adopted, she hid it in the cracks of her bed for ten years. At Verdant Hill Mental Health Facility, when the staff searched her in a panic, she shoved it into her mouth and swallowed it whole, almost dying during surgery to remove it. Once it was cleaned, she kept it pressed close to her heart.

It was her reason for living.

It was the only thing that got her through those 730 days.

It was her mother's last and only gift to her.

She slowly stood up, her back to the door.

The room was eerily quiet, so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat, thundering in her chest like a hammer pounding against her ribs.

Footsteps echoed from the doorway, then Jane's voice drifted in.

It was sweet and delicate, almost like a kitten's purr.

"Zora, what happened to your room? Did the maids make a mess while cleaning? I'll call them to tidy up for you right away..."

Zora turned around.

Her gaze slid past Jane's pretentious, kittenish expression and fixed on her neck.

There, dangling from a silver chain, was a small locket, so polished it gleamed, reflecting her silhouette.

On the back, engraved in delicate script, was a single word: Zora.

Jane followed Zora's stare, looked down at the locket on her neck, then lifted her head and smiled.

She stepped forward, stopping right in front of Zora. She pulled the locket out from her collar, held it in her hand and swung it purposefully, making it spin and sparkle under the light.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, low enough for only the two of them to hear.

"I found it in your suitcase. It's actually pretty nice. Who'd have thought someone like you, crawling out of the dirt, could have something decent to show off?"

She smiled, pressing the lock against her chest.

Jane smirked, pressing the lock to her chest. "Now it belongs to me.

"Just like this house, just like Jacob and Winston. They should have been yours. But now? They're all mine."

Zora's fingertips trembled.

Blood started to seep through the bandage on her left hand; she'd clenched her fist so hard that her barely healed wound split open again. But she felt nothing.

She just stared at Jane, at the locket hanging from her neck, at that sweet smile on her face.

Zora sprang into action.

She moved like lightning. Jane didn't even have a chance to react.

Zora seized Jane by the hair and yanked her head back hard. Jane's neck went rigid as she staggered back and slammed into the doorframe.

"Ah!"

Jane let out a scream so sharp it made your ears hurt. She fought like crazy, scratching and grabbing at anything she could reach, but Zora held on tight, not letting go for a second.

Zora reached out with her bandaged, bleeding hand and yanked at the silver chain around Jane's neck.

The chain bit into Jane's neck, leaving a deep red line. Jane was choking, her face flushed red as tears poured down her face.

Zora leaned in close, her voice low and cold, like a winter wind cutting to the bone.

She warned, "That's mine.

"Touch what belongs to me, and you're dead."

"Zora!"

A furious shout thundered from the doorway.

Jacob stormed in, his face red with anger. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, reaching out to grab Zora's arm.

"Let her go! Are you out of your mind? I haven't even settled yesterday's score with you, and now you dare to hit her..."

Just as Jacob's hand was about to grab Zora, she abruptly released her grip.

Jane, suddenly unsupported, dropped hard to the floor, clutching her neck as she coughed so violently it echoed through the room, sobbing and gasping for air between each choking breath.

Zora didn't even look at her. She reached into her pocket and slapped something down on the dressing table with a loud smack.

It was a piece of paper.

Crumpled and nearly torn at the folds, it was stamped with the red seal of Verdant Hill Mental Health Facility.

A psychiatric evaluation.

Zora looked up at Jacob and smiled.