Page 362 of Black Reign

Cold metal.

Papa's hands were always warm when he adjusted it.

I crouch.

Look beneath.

Nothing.

Turn it slightly.

There.

A tiny scratched star.

Barely larger than my fingernail.

My pulse explodes.

“Xavier.”

He crouches beside me.

“You recognize it?”

“I remember making fun of him for it.”

“For what?”

“I said it was crooked.”

My fingertips touch the symbol.

“He told me stars aren't supposed to be perfect.”

The center is slightly deeper than the points.

I press.

Nothing.

Xavier reaches toward it.

I slap his hand away.

He looks at me.

“My father.”

“Understood.”

I twist the brass ring beneath the engraving.

Nothing.

The other direction.

Click.