I chuckled. Was there something wrong? It wasn’t just something, my whole life was wrong. My existence was wrong, a mistake. Everyday kept getting worse, pushing me closer to the negative thought swimming in my head. Suicide.
“Ainsley, you’re okay?”
I shook my head, the urge to let everything out suddenly too overwhelming to bear. I would feel much better talking to someone about it. Vin was the closest thing to a best friend in this town. We met briefly three years back, and saw each other here seven weeks ago, but it felt like I’d known him since childhood.
I told him about the carnival incident and how I paid for a stupid locket with the money I got from working relentlessly for one week. Yes, I was unemployed, and he was aware. I had packed up my life in Melbourne, leaving behind the only apartment I’d ever called my own because I couldn’t scrape together the rent. Coming back to this half-broken house, the only thing left from my father, was a bitter reminder of how far I’d failed. I had hoped to find some stability here, but instead, I was stuck doing odd jobs—cleaning houses, running errands, anything that would put a little cash in my pocket. It was humiliating, really.
I let out a harsh laugh, more of a snort than anything else. “I’m holding on, Vin. Doing whatever work I can find. It’s not exactly what I imagined I’ll be doing at this stage of my life. And that locket…” I trailed off, feeling the weight of my frustrations and anger pressing down on me. “I just fucked up really bad.”
“You did nothing wrong. Hey.” Vin’s eyes softened as he closed in, and I could see the genuine concern in his gaze. I was so tired of feeling like I was falling apart, of looking for jobs that never seemed to come through. I would never tell anyone, but last week, I scooped a sick, old man’s poop from his bed just because they said they’d pay me twenty-five dollars. Usually, when I cleaned houses, washed the dishes and did any other labour in anyone’s yard, I was often rewarded with twelve dollars, so when I was offered twenty-five dollars, I couldn’t find the dignity to refuse.
“You should have told me about it. I would have torn her tent to get the money back.”
Still desperate for the money, I said, “We can get it back.”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. Carnival ended yesterday. And only God knows where she’s...headed.” His speech slowed as he approached my dresser, his gaze fixating on the cluttered surface.
“What? Never seen a messy dresser?” I tried to deflect, my voice laced with forced casualness.
But Vin wasn’t looking at the mess. His brows furrowed in confusion as he focused on something specific. “You said the locket was broken.” He lifted his hand from the surface, and my heart stopped when I saw what he was holding.
The locket dangled from Vin’s fingers, its emerald gleaming with a brilliant, almost otherworldly light. It was the same locket I had slammed onto the table in frustration and left behind. Only now, it was intact, the emerald glowing better than before. I stood up abruptly, my legs feeling like lead as I crossed theroom. The sight of the locket—so perfectly restored—sent a chill through me. I reached out and took it from Vin’s fingers, my own trembling as I felt its cool weight.
“How did it get here?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve been home since the carnival. I’ve hardly left this room. How is it not only back but perfect...and different. How did it get here?”
“How different? Look, Ainsley, I know you’re going through a lot—”
“Everything is different about it. Believe me, Vin, this was not here before.”
“No one else could have placed it there. You locked your door, remember? Who came in?”
“No one.”
Vin sighed. “You’re not making any sense, Ainsley.”
I’d been sleeping, and the only time I stepped out of my room was to go to the kitchen to make my lunch. This wasn’t the same locket I bought from that woman. The gemstone from that one had fallen out of the locket and shattered when it hit the ground. Besides, it was a newly polished locket—one could tell from the smell. But this was nothing like that fake one. This locket was old, had small scratches, but the emerald had not dulled. It was familiar, so fucking familiar now. And it bothered me so much.Wherehave I seen it?Where? Where?
Releasing a breath, I turned the locket in my hand, my brows pinching when a small, folded paper lay under the gemstone. I glanced up at Vin, finding him as curious as I was.
Swallowing, I picked it and handed the locket to Vin, unfolding the neatly folded sheet of paper.
Ainsley Jenl Hades. It’s high time we met again.
2
THEON
My phone buzzed on my bedside table for almost a minute, joining the several missed calls I had piled up there. From one person. She’d been calling since yesterday morning, and I knew what she wanted. I just didn’t understand why I was holding back from giving it to her.
A groan rumbled in my throat as I turned on my bed, lying face up. Each day, I felt better and better. Better than ever. It was like the rock in my chest was melting.
Everything was falling into place. I’d moulded, carved and crafted this mission for the past five years, and seeing it lined out perfectly in front of me had satisfaction slithering down my spine. It was time. Time for my favourite part. And fuck if imagining it didn’t make my blood rush.
I stood up from the bed just as the phone buzzed again, but I ignored it and made my way to the bathroom, where I stood in front of the mirror for almost five minutes.
Two hours later, I sent the woman’s money to her, figuring she wouldn’t stop breathing on my neck if I didn’t. She helped in sealing the first stage of my mission at that carnival night, and it was perfect.
I’d stood behindheras she sat on the ground, crying. And even when she got up and dusted her clothes, she didn’t turn around. She didn’t see me. She didn’t feel my presence, even though I was so close to her. Anyone who paid attention to her would have labelled me a creep with the way I focused my gaze on her head, her cry the sweetest melody to my soul. I loved itwhen she cried. I’d always made her cry. My mission was simple: make her life a living hell. To watch her crumble under the weight of the misery she’d so easily handed me.
