The old lady's accent sounded like home.
The moment she spoke again, something inside me tightened. The tone, the rhythm of her words it reminded me of Sole. I never expected to meet someone from my hometown in a foreign territory.
The stone resting against my chest looked plain at first glance. Smooth, pale, almost like marble. To anyone else, it could pass as a simple charm. Something decorative. Something harmless.
But the moment her eyes fell on it, her face drained of color.
"What's wrong?" I asked carefully. "This stone…"
"Young girl," she interrupted, her voice urgent, almost trembling. "Some things should not be worn lightly. If you carry the wrong thing, it can cost you your life."
Her reaction made my pulse quicken, but I kept my face calm. I couldn't tell a stranger about my second chance at life. I couldn't tell her what this stone had done for me.
"Thank you for the warning," I said politely.
She narrowed her eyes. "Do you know what it is?"
"Yes," I replied.
