Chapter 6 The Midnight Seal;

A second later, it turned and disappeared into the trees.

Eva's hands were shaking. She couldn't get air in properly.

"Eva." Elly's voice came from far away. "Eva, are you okay?"

"What was that?" Eva managed. "Did you see it too?"

"I saw it," Elly said quietly. She was looking at the tree line. "You know what it was," she murmured.

Eva threw the car into reverse and got them out of there.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the warm living room of Elly's house. Elly's mother had brought tea without being asked, a kind-faced woman who seemed to already know that they needed something hot.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Eva," she said, squeezing Eva's hands. "Having you here brings me such joy. Your grandmother was a wonderful woman."

"Thank you," Eva said. "She loved you very much too."

"We loved her." The woman's voice went soft. "I'm sorry for your loss."

They sat and talked. Small things at first, memories of the town, years gone by. Then the woman got caught up in the warmth of it, and something slipped out.

"Your mother made a terrible mistake, but your grandmother tried so hard to protect us."

Eva went still.

The woman stopped. Her face drained. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was wrong." She stood up quickly and retreated to the kitchen.

Eva looked at Elly. "What did she mean?"

Elly stared at the floor. "She was just talking."

"Elly."

"I'm sorry." Elly's voice came out quiet. "Please don't ask me. Not now."

Eva looked at her for a long moment. She'd never heard a single word from her grandmother about her parents' death. It had always felt like a door sealed shut, one she'd learned not to stand in front of. But the fear in Elly's eyes right now was telling her the seal was cracking.

Something was about to change. She could feel it.

Outside, she found herself standing on the front path, replaying it, and then she heard Elly running after her.

"Eva, wait." Elly caught her arm.

Eva turned around. Her eyes were holding both anger and something that hurt more than anger.

"What, Elly? What other secret do you want to keep?"

Elly's eyes filled. "I don't want to tell you because it will hurt. And you've already suffered so much."

"Then why did you start?"

"Because you need to know!" she cried. Then she lowered her voice, looking around them. "But I can't be the one to say it. I just need one favor from you."

Eva exhaled and waited.

"Your grandmother had a small chest," Elly said. Her voice was unsteady. "Wooden. Old. Do you remember it? Did she leave it to you?"

Eva's breath caught.

Yes. She remembered.

She'd taken it home after the funeral and put it on top of the cabinet. She hadn't been able to open it. Every time she tried, something stopped her, because that chest was the last thing remaining of her grandmother, and opening it felt like a final goodbye she wasn't ready to say.

"Yes," Eva said. "I remember."

Elly took both her hands. "Open it. What's inside will show you the truth. And whatever you find, whatever you learn..." She met her eyes. "I'm here. Okay?"

Eva swallowed. For once she didn't reach for her usual armor. "I'm scared," she said.

"I know," Elly said softly. "But some truths cause pain. Others set you free."

That night Eva drove home with both hands gripping the wheel and her mind somewhere else entirely.

When she finally walked through the door, darkness had already fallen outside. She lit the fireplace. Stood there watching the flames.

Then she looked up at the cabinet.

The chest sat exactly where she'd left it.

She stared at it for a long time. Her heart was going too fast. Finally she climbed onto a chair and brought it down.

It was lighter than she expected. But in her hands, it felt like it weighed everything.

She crouched in front of the fire and set it in her lap.

"Okay, Grandma," she whispered. "Let's see what you left me."

She opened it.

The first thing she found was a journal. Leather-bound, worn, the pages yellowed and fragile. She opened it carefully and stopped.

The writing wasn't any language she knew. Ancient symbols, diagrams, drawings that seemed to move if she looked at them too long. She couldn't read a word of it. But she could feel something radiating off the pages, a weight that had nothing to do with the paper.

Beneath the journal were old books in the same language. Margin notes in a different hand.

Then strange tools. A small dagger, silver-colored but lighter than silver should be. Dried herbs. Tiny bottles of crystallized liquid. And at the very bottom of the books, dried gerbera flowers that had somehow kept their color.

Grandma. Why did you hide all of this?

Then she saw something else at the very bottom, wrapped in red velvet.

When she peeled the fabric back, light filled the room.

She stopped breathing.

A medallion. Oval-shaped, its edges covered in intricate silver engravings. Runic symbols, wolf heads, moons and stars. But what made her unable to look away was the crystal at its center.

Inside the crystal was a liquid. Amber, phosphorescent, alive. When she tilted it gently, it moved like something that could think.

It was glowing.

Eva reached out and touched the crystal with one finger.

Lightning through her mind. Images crashing into each other.

Burning amber eyes, glowing in the dark.

A massive wolf, howling at the moon.

Her grandmother's face, young and tear-streaked.

"I will protect you. I promise."

And then a voice. Deep and ragged and wounded.

"I will wait for you. Rose's daughter..."

Eva screamed and jerked back. The medallion fell from her hands but the light didn't go out. It sat on the floor, breathing, pulsing like a heartbeat.

She pressed herself into the corner of the chair. Her hands were shaking hard. "This isn't real. It can't be real."

But it was. All of it. She could feel it the way she could feel her own pulse.

She jumped up, went to the kitchen, grabbed the wine bottle from the cabinet, and didn't bother with a glass. She drank straight from it. Let it burn. Drank again.

Then she went back to the fireplace and sat down on the floor with the bottle between her knees and her head tipped back against the chair.

"What happened, Grandma?" Her voice cracked open. Tears ran down her face unchecked. "What did you go through? Did these people do this to you too?"

Another drink.

"What happened to Mom and Dad? Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

And then the worst one.

"Why did you leave me? Why did you go?"

She looked at the medallion through her tears. It still glowed. Slow and steady, like breathing.

She reached out and picked it up.

This time, nothing came. No vision, no lightning. Only the warmth of it in her palm, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.

"Did you hide this to protect me?" she whispered. "Or were you protecting something else?"

It didn't matter. Her grandmother was gone, and Eva was alone, and this small glowing thing was the last piece of her still left in the world...