I pulled out the silver piece, and in my palm it took shape as a delicate flying fish pendant, cool and faintly gleaming under the light. My fingers tightened around it without thinking, as if afraid it would disappear again.
"Is something that only costs a hundred or so worth digging through the trash?" Ashton's voice came out cold, carrying that quiet dominance he always wore like a second skin.
I ignored him and carefully wiped the cream off the pendant with a tissue. His guess was right—it wasn't expensive. But to me, it meant something else entirely, something that didn't fade with time or price.
When I was fourteen, I had started to notice how people looked at each other. The girls around me wore small ornaments, trying to copy the older women in their lives. Necklaces, bracelets—simple things, but they made them feel seen. Back then, even the smallest accessory felt like a luxury I couldn't reach, something just out of my grasp.
