Chapter 9

Effie glanced at her phone. The message was from Suzan.

A frown creased Effie's brow before she could stop herself.

She tapped open the chat. It was a photo.

The image showed a torn-up charm-shredded into jagged scraps.

Effie stared at the screen, her frown deepening. She knew this charm well. Two years ago, she'd made a pilgrimage to St. Mary's Abbey herself to get it. Back then, she'd bought into the monastery's legends, so determined to prove her devotion that she climbed all 999 steps to the summit, knelt at the altar, and prayed with fervor. She'd scraped her knees raw that day in the biting wind, but her heart had brimmed with hope.

She'd just wanted this charm to protect her beloved-to keep him healthy and safe.

Mitchell had found out and been moved almost to tears. He'd swung her around in a joyful hug: “Effie, I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Now the charm was nothing but a heap of torn paper, as ruined as their love.

Looking back, it felt like some sort of cruel joke.

message blinked on screen, thick

so he gave me this charm. You remember it, right? The one you worked so hard to get? Oops, I

said it's just a cheap old charm.

as Effie

charm for a moment, then typed back: "You're right- it's just a mass-produced trinket, a dollar each. If you like them, I can send you a whole box. But you know, for people with a guilty conscience, even a lucky

instantly. Was Effie taking a jab at

Damn it!

orphan; if Suzan managed to steal

Suzan

she was starting to look forward to

the ring on her finger, her mind wandering. What was Lyman doing right

were getting married. Was she reckless? Maybe.

Effie opened

with intricate latte art. The delicate design was warm and inviting—so at odds with Lyman's

like coffee

at

lost in thought, a new message

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