Amber's face changed so fast it made my heart slam against my ribs.
One second she was calm. The next, her fingers were fisted in my collar, pulling me closer like she could smell something on me that didn't belong. Her grip was strong, stronger than a normal woman her age should be. My instincts flared, sharp and defensive. I covered the stone at my chest with both hands before she could touch it.
The last time an old woman saw this stone, she reacted the same way.
How did they both recognize it?
And why did she say there were two?
"Amber, I don't understand," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I only have one stone. Not two."
She stared at me for a long time. Her eyes were no longer warm. They were searching. Measuring.
"So it's you…" she muttered under her breath. "No wonder…"
A chill ran down my spine. The way she looked at me felt like recognition. Like she knew something she shouldn't.
But that was impossible.
