The extra bedroom was just the way I remembered it—soft light filtering through the curtains, the air holding that faint floral note that always lingered around Grandma Hazel’s old things. It smelled like dried roses and cedarwood and whatever ghost of magic Grandma had left behind.
The jewelry box sat in the middle of the vanity, looking the same as it always had: like it held secrets. I had no idea where Grandma had gotten it, but it was gorgeous: carved oak, brass hinges, stars and moons etched into the lid. A hexafoil sat in the center, where Grandma used to press her thumb when she was in a mood to impress us with something strange.
But it felt…different.
“Go on and take a seat,” Rhett said, gesturing toward the vanity. “The box’ll take it from there.”
“Are you serious?”
Hazel let out a delighted little squeal, clapping her hands together.
“Pretty sure she just ordered you to sit, Uncle Beau,” Rhett said.
I laughed under my breath and eased into the chair, the old wood creaking beneath me. Hazel kicked her little legs like this was her favorite show.
“I swear she’s been here before,” I muttered.
“She has,” Rhett said, settling onto the edge of the bed. “Don’t remember it, but that girl’s got old soul energy.”
I reached out and brushed my fingers over the lid of the box. The engravings caught the light—moons and stars, vines curling toward the center. My thumb landed on the hexafoil without thinking.
Nothing happened.
I frowned, tried again. Still nothing.
“I thought Silas said that was the button.”
Rhett shrugged, bouncing Hazel gently on his knee. “Maybe it was for him.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“As if the rules apply where Grandma Hazel is concerned,” Rhett chuckled. He looked down at his daughter, who was mostly interested in trying to stick her entire fist in her mouth at that moment. “You wanna give your uncle a hand, sweetpea?”
Hazel yanked her hand from her mouth with a delighted squeal and leaned toward the box like she was accepting a divine mission. Rhett scooted her a little closer, and with one determined little grunt, she slapped her palm against the left side of the jewelry box.
Click.
A panel I hadn’t even noticed before—flush with the side, smooth as the rest of the wood—slid open with a soft mechanical sigh, like the box had been holding its breath.
I blinked.
Inside was a single ring.
Silas had told the story enough times that it struck me as odd—and Rhett had confirmed. The box was supposed to open from the top…there were supposed to be three remaining rings, as if Hazel had picked them out for us before she died.
But no—there was just one.
And I couldn’t have imagined anything moreNoellethan this.
The ring was nestled in a cushion of green velvet, a silver band set with an unusually dark amethyst in the center. Two pale moonstones bracketed it, catching the morning light in their opalescent depths.
“Silas said the whole box opened,” I said.
Rhett nodded. “It did, gave us the whole spread. Guess the message was delivered…and now she wants you to have something more specific.”
I picked up the ring.
It was cool, heavy…absolutely beautiful in that same wicked way Noelle had about her. I turned it over to sit in my palm, the amethyst lighting up in a sunbeam.
