Page 75 of The Stolen Dagger
Pearl’s house.
An ache formed in my chest just thinking of her and what she must be going through because of me. I glanced over to my old house next door.
Compared to Pearl’s bright pastel colors, mine was otherwise bleak and looked abandoned.
The front door was in rough shape. Its faded, white paint was chipped along the edges of the doorway and square-framed windows, one of which was boarded up with plywood like someone had busted the glass to get inside.
I swallowed down the emotion lodged in my throat. The night I left, I told myself I’d never come back here. I had said goodbye to everything I’d known.
Now that I was back, it almost felt like nothing had changed. But it had. I had changed.
“All right, little bird,” Mack shouted through the truck window from where he parked along the curb. “The sooner we get what we came for, the better. I’ll be waiting right here for you. And making sure we don’t have any trouble.”
Right. I was here for a reason. I needed that dagger.
I took a deep breath and walked up the steps to Pearl’s front door.
With shaking hands, I lifted the top right corner of the bumblebee doormat, grabbed the small brass key that lay on the concrete porch, and inserted it into the lock.
As soon as the door opened, I was hit with the stale scent of laundry detergent mixed with lavender. Shutting the door behind me, I walked deeper into Pearl’s house.
Decorated in pale, earthy colors, it looked the same as it had a year ago. Multiple framed photos of Pearl’s family were hung on the beige walls. Potted plants were scattered around the room on end tables and windowsills that looked in desperate need of watering. Along the antique furniture and floral accent curtains, a layer of dust covered every open surface.
It looked like she had been gone for weeks. That thought frightened me more than any threat from Adrian.
How long had Pearl been gone? How long ago since Adrian got to her?
I shook off that thought.Focus, I told myself.
I approached the wooden staircase leading to the second floor. At the top of the landing and to the right, I entered theguest bedroom. I surveyed the small space until I found the false floorboard beside the small twin size bed against the far-left wall.
Bypassing the dresser topped with succulents and the white bookshelf housing a handful of old romance novels, I kneeled beside the hidden compartment beneath the floorboards marked with two dissimilar wooden planks, one lighter and another darker.
The difference in the wood was so slight that no ordinary person could spot it without having it pointed out to them beforehand.
With the key to the front door still in my hand, I angled it on the outside of the wood and wedged it into the crack between the boards. Applying just enough pressure, I twisted the key deeper into the gap. When the hardwood creaked, the false plank popped open.
A blue duffel bag, along with the rest of my belongings I had stashed that night, were crammed into the ten square-inch space. Carefully, I lifted the bag from its hiding place and dumped the contents on the floor beside me.
Among my small possessions was the bizarre-shaped engagement ring and the jewelry box. They were just as I remembered from that night.
The jewelry box was a bit bigger than my hands and in the shape of a rectangle with curved corners supported by hooked, sturdy legs. It comprised a dark red wood with a polished finish and golden accents. Carved into the top of it was a begonia flower.
I grazed my finger over the oddest part of the jewelry box: the latch.
It didn’t look like a standard key hole. Instead, it was in the shape of a wide, ten-pointed star.
How odd.
How was I supposed to find a key like that? Adrian didn’tgive me a key that night, and I couldn’t recall if he mentioned anything more.
My gaze wandered around the other objects that were in the bag.
There has to be something here that?—
That’s when I spotted the ring; the silver ring with a set of layered diamonds in the exact shape of the ten-pointed star.
With the box still in hand, I plucked the ring from the pile of my former possessions and hastily lined it up to the lock. It took a few twists and turns to align the points of the star, but, like the last piece of the puzzle, it finally clicked into place.
