Penny's POV
The stranger didn't return the locket. He vanished into the dark with it in his pocket, like he wanted me to know he still had a piece of me.
Andrew's thumb brushes over my knuckles. He hasn't let go of my hand since the balcony encounter. His grip is strong and steady like he's silently telling me he won't let anyone or anything get close enough to shake me again.
There's silence in the apartment with only the sound of the old wall clock and my uneven breaths. Finally, Mom exhales, long and sharp. "I don't like this," she says, arms crossed, her eyes darting toward the sliding glass door as if the shadow might reappear. "Not one bit."
Dad leans back against the counter and run a hand through his hair. "Of course you don't like it. None of us do. But panicking won't help right now." He sounds calm but he's just as rattled as us.
I squeeze Andrew's hand and whisper, "He still has it."
Andrew looks down at me, his eyes fierce. "We'll get it back."
