“Now, Callum,” Maya urged, pulling me toward the red dress hanging on a nearby rack, “open the pocket. Let’s see what she left for us.”
I hesitated, the memory of Iris’s warning flashing: “Don’t let anyone see the locket until after the ceremony.” My fingers brushed the fabric, the silk cool under my skin.
“She said… she said it’s for us, Mom,” I muttered, heart pounding, the locket’s promise heavy in my chest.
Just as my thumb slipped into the hidden seam, a voice boomed from the corridor.
“Hold it right there!” The security guard—a tall, stern man in a navy shirt—stepped forward, eyes narrowed.
“That dress contains contraband,” he declared, hand outstretched, his badge flashing under the flickering hallway lights.
I froze, breath caught between the desire to fulfill Iris’s last wish and the fear of being caught in something I didn’t understand.
“What… what are you talking about?” Maya’s voice cracked, a mixture of shock and protectiveness.
The guard’s gaze fixed on the red dress, then on me, as if demanding I choose between obedience and secrecy.
“I’m not… I’m not going to open it,” I said, voice barely a whisper, the locket’s weight pressing against my palm.
His hand tightened on the fabric, the tension palpable, the hallway echoing with his accusation.
“If you open that pocket, you’ll be breaking school policy,” he growled, the words hanging like a threat.
All I could hear was the thudding of my own heart, the distant echo of Iris’s voice warning me—
