The Ruby Locket by Anita Higman, Hillary McMullen Page A

a ritual of drinking hot cocoa together in her bed every night—me filling the empty, empty space that was once Dad’s. I doubted our little tradition would continue here. But I’m sure if Mom ever wanted hot cocoa, Ivan would get it for her, probably the finest available.
                  As we left the bedroom—Wyatt once again checking outside the door for any passersby—I spied an intricate silver jewelry box, inlaid with rubies, sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Just below the lid were two heart-shaped indentions, side by side. A ray of sunlight snuck through the heavy drapes, making the box wink silver at me, bright and beckoning.
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Fifteen
    Dauphine
     
    I awakened drowsily and rose up on my elbows. Where was I? For a second I’d forgotten. Oh, yes, having a catnap under a pretty river birch tree. I doubted I’d been asleep long, but oddly, those forty winks had felt like hours or even days. As if time had slowed to a stop. That was the funny thing about sleep. And the dream I’d had—something about a room full of beautiful toys. A child’s dream world. But in the darkened corner of the room, there was one lone doll with eyes that gleamed a little too brightly and a smile that curled into a sinister grin. The other details of the nightmare were gone, but that one image left me with a foreboding kind of uneasiness.
                  The weeds rustled and sighed in the breeze, coming to life with sound. I jerked to attention, popping my head up above the grasses like a prairie dog. But it’s only dragonflies, Dauphine, remember? I chuckled at my jitters.
                  But there it was again, and this time it was harder to dismiss the noise as the drone of insects. The sound was longer in duration, and deeper. Could it be the guttural snarl of a dog?
                  In an instant, I scooted up off the ground and dusted myself off, all the while studying the landscape for any kind of animal that might be lurking about. Were there bears or mountain lions in this part of the country? Perhaps if there were, the animals lived in the nearby hills and canyons, but fed on the animals in the meadow. I shivered. Surely Ivan would have told us if there were any dangers on the estate. Wouldn’t he?
                  With all my scanning, I saw nothing but beauty and serenity. I’d learned from my decades on this earth, though, that sometimes tranquility could be deceptive. Bad things had a way of masquerading. However, in this case, my imagination was simply working overtime. Calm yourself, Dauphine. But my body persisted without my permission as my skin prickled and the hair rose on my arms.
                  My mother had always told me that too much imagination could be dangerous, and it wouldn’t put food on the table. She’d been so pragmatic when it came to childrearing, I intentionally raised Anne differently, encouraging her creativity to soar and her dreams to find no tethers. And to know all the delight-filled and freeing things I never knew growing up.
                  I wiped the sweat from my forehead and started down one of the footpaths that led to the abbey. Best to get back in case there really was some animal on the loose. I plucked a few poppies along the way to make a bouquet for Anne. Wonder what she was up to right this minute. Probably tucked cozily away in the abbey’s vast library and getting lost in a story.
                  I sped up my pace, going faster and faster, until I was jogging. Guess I’d gotten more frightened than I thought. Feeling winded, I stopped and studied the trail, which now broke off in three more directions. Suddenly, nothing looked familiar. Not the trees or boulders or patches of wildflowers. I walked one way and then another. All the paths looked the same and none of them looked like the way I’d come. How odd.
                  The dark