Page 254 of Coal Hearts

A crypt full of memories from those who’d worn, revered, and appreciated these gemstones.

A tomb of dead jewels who would never be found.

I dropped the snowflake obsidian.

My palm burned.

It belonged to someone else.

Someone who’d been tortured, brutalised, and murdered.

My eyes stung.

My breath caught.

My insides twisted into a million knots.

But I didn’t cry.

Didn’t cry.

I moved to the next basket and ran my cold-frosted fingers over hundreds of beaded bracelets. Just like mine. Too much like mine.

I would never be able to tell which were the ones Victor had taken off me, and I didn’t want to. They hadn’t worked. They hadn’t protected or saved me.

The weight in my chest grew and grew.

The pressure in my head swelled and swelled.

The dragon hissed, and my heart fissured.

Just a crack.

But it caused a gaping abyss in my chest.

But I didn’t cry.

I stayed dry-eyed and silent.

I didn’t think about what Henri had done.

I didn’t think about what he would do next.

I just kept praying to the mountains of jewels and—

I froze.

My heart stopped.

Resting in the last basket on the top row.

Glinting green and placed just so, rested my aventurine pendant from Krish.

For a second, I had no reaction.

The pressure inside me, the tears I refused to shed...they didn’t get worse or better.

But then the crack in my heart gorged agonisingly wide.