The silver moon's curse

's

The warmth felt out of place in a house that never truly seemed to heat up, no matter how many cups of tea Grams poured or how many lo

parents had left in the attic. Most of it was old faded clothes that smelled like cedar and time, a box of Dad's college textbooks, some of

t opened it yet. It felt sacred somehow. It was lighter than the others, b

e lid for a moment. I didn't want to ruin whatever spell it

ch, the kind you'd find in a

weighed almost nothing. I untied the string a

nots. A jagged crack split the front cover, like lightning frozen in metal. The cl

red her and one of my father, grinning awkwardly, probably caught off-guard. Their faces s

ched into the inner rim,

Marianne.

t ended up hidden away in my room. How long had it been t

fingers curled around the locket like it might vanish if I le

to my feet,

f at the base of the staircase. I hesitated, the locket still clenche

es, and out the back door into the garden. The fog hadn't rolled in yet, but I could feel it waiting j

rt just last week. The locket glittered faintly in the sunlight. I turned it over and ov

re ghosts. Even when I pushed...."What were they like? Did Mom write a lot when she was

iant. Too much light bur

ed stories, not ridd

rden leaves, carrying the scent of rosemary and something else

t branches moving. But the forest had never felt so aware of

cket, and turned to go back ins

clear. Like a lock turnin

my throat. Nothing.

ocket in my pock

t down on the floor again and spread out the velvet pouch and the box it came in. Something about the b

e had put it

rt, fingers nimble, the way Mom had taught me when I was little. "Jewelry wa

y sparked

he drawing I'd made days ago-the one of the Black Hollow Forest.

ow, chills skati

nches I'd drawn, was a si

My breat

just a blur of metallic reflection, but now th

wn the forest. I'

The forest, the dreams, the pull I felt whenever the fog came somethin

ntly in my hand, almost

ne. Grams, maybe. Loga

locket again, stared a

m me?" I whispered. "What

m growing darker with the setting sun. The sha

to close the locket again,

ographs

t waves or the surface of a pond when so

ehind my mother'

lur. Then, as I stared,

rees. The Blac

d turne

This room. My bedroom in Langley Manor. But older. The wallpaper was different. The furni

d, heart

le wor

in my hand with a forc

he floor with a dull thud, the cracked

dn't

ust sat there, staring at it

ked it up again. This time, it di

new bet

t jewelry. It was a me

h I didn't want to a

ep, of course. Every creak of the old house felt amplified, every shadow a watc

carried b

owl I'd he

me, I didn't

t...

locket, whispering t