In my hand is a necklace. The chain is so old it feels weak. The pendant on the chain was a gold oval, with a picture of a black rose against a white background. A fancy design covered the outer edge. Against the right side I could feel a clasp. I have been staring at it and procrastinating opening it since I got home, that was five hours ago.
I can still see the confused look on Cliff’s face when I quickly excused myself. The moment I read that part of the article, somehow deep inside I knew.
I remember when I had gotten it. My dad had given it to me for my thirteenth birthday. His exact words were, in a not so nice tone; “This is from your mother.” The small green jewelry bag landed on the coffee table with a thud. Inside the bag was a note along with this necklace.
In my left hand I hold the necklace, in my right this pen. I am rubbing the clasp with my thumb-click-my heart is racing and my hands are shaking. As I flip open the pendant I notice a small key inside. It’s so tiny, not even the size of my pinky.
Tomorrow is the day…
*Madison Rhodes*
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