Early the next morning, I sat on the edge of my ruined bed, staring at the empty space beneath the mattress. The silver locket, my mother’s necklace, the only thing I had left of my parents was gone.
Panic rose sharp and fast. I tore the cabin apart, shoving furniture, ripping through cupboards, even checking the freezer. Dust and destruction stared back at me. Nothing.
Bowen. It had to be him.
I stormed across the compound in my stained pink shirt and shorts, ignoring the crude laughter and catcalls. I banged on his cabin door until it swung open.
Bowen stood there, smug in a fresh gray t-shirt. “Seraphine. What can I do for you?”
“Give it back,” I snarled. “I know you took it.”
He feigned innocence, but his eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. When I tried to push past him, his fi
