I had held that locket in my hands when I was nineteen years old.
It had belonged to my older brother.
Ryan Morgan.
The brother I had buried seventeen years earlier.
Or believed I had buried.
“Where did you get that?” I whispered.
Mr. Bennett’s face became perfectly still.
“Get what?”
“The locket.”
His hand instinctively moved toward it.
I stepped closer.
“That belonged to my brother.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re mistaken.”
“No.”
My voice broke.
“No, I’m not.”
He closed his shirt.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“I said leave.”
I stared at him.
“Tell me where you got it.”
“Your shift is over.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
His voice sharpened.
“Get out of this room.”
My desperation exploded.
“My brother died seventeen years ago!”
The words echoed through the bathroom.
