Mark looked down. He stared at the object, his brow deeply furrowed.
It was a very old silver pendant shaped like a small key, with the initial "S" delicately engraved on its surface.
He picked up the pendant, feeling it in the palm of his hand. A strange sense of familiarity struck him.
Mark then looked at Seren, who had now collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. His sharp mind began to piece together a very thin thread connecting this small object. It was a coincidence that was too neat, and Mark was a man who hated coincidences more than anything.
"Seren," Mark said. "Where did you get this?"
Seren didn't answer. She could only stare at the pendant with a dazed expression. She didn't remember when she'd come to possess it, but seeing those initials, she felt a strange warmth mixed with a piercing ache at the back of her head. She tried to reach out into the air, but her hand only weakly scraped the floor.
