The instant Amanda Kensington spotted the necklace around the young woman’s neck, her reality came to an abrupt halt. In one moment, she was reaching for her wine goblet. In the next, she found herself transfixed, immobile and voiceless, on the golden locket resting right beneath Riley’s neckline.
It was an exquisite trinket, crafted in the form of a half-moon and inscribed with a solitary letter, L. Beside her, sixteen-year-old Logan Kensington grinned widely, eagerly presenting the young woman he had invited over. «Mom, Dad, meet Riley.» Riley gave a gentle grin, her tone composed even as an undercurrent of unease filled the space. «It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kensington.»
Amanda remained silent. Her focus stayed glued to the jewelry. Richard Kensington, positioned at the table’s end, let out a subtle cough to break the quiet.
«So, how did the two of you cross paths?» «Over at the Hollywood Community Shelter,» Logan responded promptly. «She instructs coding classes for the little ones. That’s the spot where I do my volunteer work.»
«Fantastic,» Richard commented under his breath, managing a strained grin. Amanda eventually snapped out of it, placing her goblet back without taking a drink. «Pardon me,» she stated, getting up deliberately.
Her words carried a chill, verging on fragility. «I shall return shortly.» She pivoted and exited the area with rigid steps, her fingers lifting not to steady herself, but to touch her concealed necklace tucked inside her top.
An overwhelming sense of dread had taken hold. Amanda Kensington continued until she arrived at the primary bedroom. She closed the entrance, secured it, and with unsteady fingers, unveiled the vintage ornament container atop her vanity.
Nestled under layers of gems and beads lay a chain almost exactly like the one on Riley. A golden half-moon. Marked with the identical lone character, L. It had been nearly twenty years since she last laid eyes on such an emblem.
Back in the eating area, the mood had eased slightly, though tension lingered. Riley took small drinks of her water as Logan chattered on to ease the awkwardness. «She’s passionate about artificial intelligence and mechanical engineering as well, Mom. In fact, she’s submitting applications to Stanford.»
Richard lifted a brow. «Quite remarkable.» Riley affirmed with a nod…
«I’ve had a lifelong fascination with unraveling mysteries.» Richard offered a modest, courteous grin, yet his attention drifted once more to her adornment. «What a lovely item.»
«An inherited family treasure.» Riley glanced downward. «Well, not exactly.»
«I’m unsure of its origins.» «Really?» «I was raised in the foster system.»
«That chain was the sole item discovered alongside me when I was an infant.» The space grew utterly motionless. Richard shared a quick look toward the vacant threshold from which Amanda had departed.
Riley failed to observe it. She continued gazing at the golden trinket, oblivious to the fact that it had unlocked a portal this household had vowed to keep shut forever. Amanda positioned herself by the washroom basin, letting cool liquid flow across her arms, her respiration erratic and labored.
That evening hadn’t crossed her thoughts for ages. The downpour. The cries.
The choice they had pledged to bury in silence. And here, a young lady appears in her residence donning that very chain. She clutched the ledge, struggling to maintain her balance.
On the lower level, Logan remained blissfully ignorant. He was engrossed in observing Riley chuckle lightly, with a hint of anxiety, while she narrated an anecdote about a student in her programming class who unwittingly caused a machine to whirl endlessly. «It just kept going,» she remarked with a smile.
«We ended up disconnecting the entire setup.» Richard laughed courteously, though his thoughts raced wildly. He recognized that chain from somewhere.
In a medical facility. Enveloped in a cloth stained with crimson. Abruptly, sounds of steps resounded from the corridor.
Amanda reentered, poised and as unyielding as fine china. She resumed her position with a forced upward curve of her lips. «My apologies.»
«I simply had to review a notification.» «All good?» Logan inquired. «Absolutely,» she affirmed.
However, she then directed her attention to Riley and inquired bluntly, «Have you made attempts to locate your biological family?» Riley’s expression faltered. She paused before responding. «I did in the past,» she murmured.
«But I ceased after receiving a caution to drop the matter.» The hush that followed was so dense Logan sensed it constricting his torso. «A caution from whom,» he echoed, inclining closer.
Riley confirmed with a nod. «Yes. This happened around three years back.»
«I submitted a form for basic details without names. A week later, an anonymous printed message arrived via post. No sender information.»
«Merely a single line.» «What was written?» Richard questioned, his tone subdued. Riley shifted her gaze among them.
«It read, ‘Cease your search. Certain tombs are locked for good cause.’»..
Amanda’s fingers blanched as they gripped her wine vessel. «And you complied just like that?» she probed, attempting nonchalance. «I was only fifteen.»
«It terrified me. I assumed perhaps my origins involved peril. Or influence.»
«Thus, I abandoned it.» Riley averted her eyes, feeling self-conscious. «I convinced myself history was irrelevant.»
Logan extended his palm to hers beneath the tabletop. «It holds significance,» he declared. Richard made a sound to clear his vocal cords.
«You mentioned the chain accompanied you from infancy. Do you retain any documents from the authorities?» Riley batted her lashes. «Just a duplicate.»
«For what reason?» «Might you permit us to examine it?» he proposed, a bit hastily. Amanda darted a piercing stare his way. Yet Riley merely lifted her shoulders.
«Certainly. It’s back at my place.» Amanda’s words sliced through the atmosphere.
«I desire to view it this evening.» Sixty minutes later, Logan arrived at the curb near Riley’s compact residence in a serene section of South Los Angeles. The difference was stark, shifting from luxurious high-rises to squeaky wooden planks.
Amanda and Richard had demanded to accompany them. Amanda claimed she sought resolution. Richard offered no explanation whatsoever.
Riley expressed regret for any disorder, despite her space being impeccably tidy, volumes arranged orderly, a tiny planted greenery on the ledge, and an aged computer powering up on a provisional workstation fashioned from piled boxes. «Here it is,» she announced, pulling out a thin beige envelope from a secure container beneath her sleeping area. «Not a lot, merely entry records and a blurred health document.»
She passed it to Amanda, who unveiled it with quivering digits. The initial sheet was a clinic summary. Baby girl.
African-American descent. Estimated days old, five. Discovered deserted close to Hollywood Shelter.
Adorned with half-moon chain. Without harm. Lacking observers.
Amanda’s inhalation hitched. Underneath lay a caseworker’s entry, marked 2007. Child seemed in good condition.
Unnamed informant disclosed site. Informant’s tone, woman, around thirties. Likely well-schooled.
Declined to provide identity. Stated, «She’s better off apart from me.» Richard retreated as though hit.
Amanda lowered herself gradually onto the brink of Riley’s sofa. She avoided blinking. She was muttering.
«Heavens, it’s you.» Logan glanced among them, perplexed. «Hold on, what are you implying, Mom? What’s happening?» Amanda stayed mute.
Her vision fixed on the dossier resting on her knees, as if it had unearthed a specter from within her. Riley remained rigid, her palm clasping the edge of her workstation. «This looks familiar to you, correct?» Richard inquired softly.
He avoided eyeing Riley. He focused on his spouse. Amanda at last uttered words, her timbre faint and fracturing…
