n her laptop screen. There was no joy in he
wl. The physical vibration reminded her that th
efrigerator door open. The harsh yellow light illuminated a depressing sight: a
d against the roof of her mouth, but she chewed mechanically, forcing i
w legal pad and a thick black Sharpie, an
er down hard and wrote: SHELTER. She underlined i
apocalypse. The deep freeze. The endless, bone-crushing c
lips cracked and bleeding. And she remembered Kendal walking past her, wearing
nging around Kendal's neck that day. A dull, worn-out gold
out the magical, infinite space hidden inside the metal. A space that held entire warehouses of f
plastic casing creaked. The tip of the marker pie
that necklace. It wasn'
e only physical tether to her real bloodline. But on Kendal's sixteenth birthday, Sharon had ripped it
She hated her past self. She hated how weak she had been, handing over a lit
location of the necklace. It was sitting in
ical, paranoid brat. If she noticed it missing, she would call the cops. A police investigati
e and opened the browser, typing furiousl
round studio in the arts district that specialized in creating flawless, indistinguish
e back of the chair, snatched her
the slick, rain-soaked streets of Seattle.
assed the display cases entirely. She walked straight to the back workbench w
owed him a rough sketch she had dr
his head. "Custom mold. Ancient engra
out two thick stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills she had jus
"I don't need a replica. I need the most obnoxious, flashy, m
instantly dropped the ring, turned around
as a thick, gold-plated chain holding a massive, flawlessl
k. A cold smile touched her lips. It was perfect. She knew
jeweler, grabbed the velvet box
od on the wet pavement, pulled out her phone, and d
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