#Chapter 32 - The locket

Ruby When I first saw Atwood’s empty seat in the theater, I was angry and hurt that he would miss my show. Now, however, as I stand in the middle of the quad as the snow falls around me, it all makes sense. I reach into my shirt and pull out my locket, which I haven’t taken off since Atwood gave it to me. His instructions from this morning flash across my mind. “If you ever need me, or just want to feel my presence, all you have to do is hold the pendant.” With a deep breath, I close my eyes and wrap my fingers around the pendant, squeezing it tightly in my hand. I wait like this for several moments, searching for the sound of Atwood’s voice, his touch, his smell, but… there is nothing. Just as I’m about to give up and go back inside, thinking to myself that maybe Atwood’s words were more metaphorical than anything, I feel something. It’s small, just a spark, but it’s there. At the edges of my mind I can just barely feel Atwood’s presence, but it’s w