I didn't sleep.
Not properly, anyway.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph.
Three words kept repeating in my head.
Ask your mother.
By three in the morning, I gave up pretending I was going to sleep.
I sat on the edge of my bed and looked at the pendant.
Then at the note.
Then at the door.
My mother was awake.
I could hear her moving around downstairs.
I checked the clock.
3:17 a.m.
Again.
Of course.
I slowly stood.
---
The hallway was dark.
I walked downstairs without making a sound.
The kitchen light was on.
My mother stood at the counter.
She was holding something.
A small silver object.
My steps stopped.
She turned.
Her eyes widened.
“Luna?”
“What are you holding?”
She quickly closed her hand around it.
“Nothing.”
I stared at her.
“Mom.”
She
