Page 34 of Coveted

“In the forest, it sounded like Parker was trying to get someone to admit to something,” she says.

My voice is dull. “Hannah’s murder, I bet.”

I should’ve been there for my cousins. I fucked up so badly.

“I wish I heard more,” she says. “Saw more.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re going to find the bastard who did this.”

Sadie wrings her hands in her lap. She’s working up the courage to ask me something else, and I have my suspicions about what it is.

“Did you—” She inhales through her nose and meets my gaze. “Did you send me⁠—”

“Roses, a switchblade, your locket?” I finish for her.

Her mouth gently hangs open. “You did.”

It’s like she didn’t expect me to admit it.

“Sure,” I say. “Not a big deal.”

She lowers her voice to a whisper, glancing around like cops are about to crash in and arrest her.

“Where did you get the locket?” she asks.

Pleasure trickles through my blood. I’m enjoying her bewilderment way more than I should.

“I found it in Briarvale while passing through,” I say. “Where you dropped it, I guess. In the woods.”

“What were you doing in the woods?” she asks.

“Clearing my head.”

Sadie’s eyes are glued to me, her brow furrowed in concentration.

She’s trying to figure out how much I know. Whether I saw what she did, or merely found the locket and assumed it was hers because of the initials. Briarvale’s a tiny town. There aren’t many residents with the initials S.M. who’d wear a pretty silver locket.

Toying with the end of her braid, she tries to understand. “But how did you find me? How did you know where to send it?”

“I go through Briarvale a lot. One time, I saw your name on a flyer for a local poetry reading, so I asked around. People were happy to tell me you work at Ink & Ivy Books.”

Such a fucking lie.

I didn’t need to ask around. I saw what she did, the night she did it. I spotted the glint of the locket as it fell from her neck while she fled the blaze.

I discovered her name via cyber-sleuthing, and this beautiful, intriguing girl became an ongoing interest of mine. She’d been my favorite pastime for months before she ever received a package from me.

I did attend Sadie’s poetry reading, but that’s a whole other story.

“Okay,” she says slowly, convincing herself that’s all I know. “Thank you for returning it. Why send me a switchblade knife though?”

“For protection.” In truth, I was concerned about the dismal lack of security at Ink & Ivy Books, but I keep that part to myself. “You still have it, right?”

“No! I’d get stabbed if I tried to use it.”

I groan. “You’re just walking around unprotected? Fuck. You really do need me.”

“I’m not convinced I need protection.” She eyes me warily. “Least of all from you.”