NOVEL NEXT Chapter 4: The Lost Necklace
Mara stumbled through her front door, the weight of the night's events still heavy on her shoulders. Her breath was shallow, and her muscles ached from the adrenaline that had coursed through her as she ran through the forest. She was exhausted, her clothes drenched and clinging to her skin. The storm outside had followed her home, its fury matching the chaos she felt inside.
The lights in her apartment flickered overhead as she kicked off her muddy shoes by the door. Her hands trembled slightly as she stripped off the torn, dirt-smeared clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. The adrenaline from her chase was beginning to fade, replaced by the dull ache of physical and emotional exhaustion.
Her skin felt raw, her muscles tight, and yet, the only thing that seemed to bring her any comfort was the thought of the warm shower that awaited her. It had been a long time since she'd felt so drained, but the idea of washing away the dirt—both literal and metaphorical—gave her a momentary sense of peace.
She stepped into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. The bathroom, small and modest, was dimly lit by a single overhead light, but that didn't matter. All she needed was the water—its warmth, its promise of solace.
She turned the faucet, and hot water poured out in steady streams, filling the air with the sound of rushing water. Steam began to rise, enveloping the bathroom in a thick mist, but Mara welcomed it. The heat soaked into her skin, relaxing the tightness in her muscles, and for a moment, she could just breathe. She closed her eyes, letting the water cascade over her face and down her body, erasing the grime and exhaustion of the day. The droplets glided over her skin, washing away the sense of terror, of being hunted, and leaving only a temporary sense of peace.
Her hands moved automatically, scrubbing at the dirt on her arms, her neck, and her legs. As the water streamed over her, Mara couldn't help but let her thoughts wander. She'd been on the run tonight, terrified and overwhelmed by the unknown, and now, here she was, trying to make sense of it all. But in the midst of the storm, there was one thing that grounded her, one thing that mattered more than anything else.
Her necklace.
The silver chain that had once belonged to her mother.
She reached up instinctively to touch it, her fingers brushing against the skin of her neck—only to find nothing.
Her heart stopped for a moment. She blinked, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. She reached up again, this time frantic, running her fingers over the bare skin. It was gone. The pendant, the chain, everything.
Mara stood still, the sound of the water pounding against the tiles around her suddenly deafening. Her breath hitched in her chest, a wave of panic flooding her. The necklace was the only thing she had left of her mother—the only physical connection to the woman who had raised her, loved her, and who had been taken away too soon. It was the one thing she held on to after everything had fallen apart.
It had been her mother's last gift to her before she died—something she could never forget. And now, it was gone.
Her mind raced back to earlier in the night, trying to remember when the necklace had slipped off. Had she taken it off during the chase? Or had it fallen while she was running through the forest, in the midst of the terror that had gripped her?
A lump formed in her throat, and her chest tightened with a deep sadness that seemed to settle deep within her bones. She had been so focused on surviving, on escaping the things in the dark, that she hadn't even noticed when it was gone. The tears that had threatened to fall before now surged, but Mara didn't let them fall—not yet.
Instead, she closed her eyes, leaned against the cool tiles of the shower, and let the water continue to pour over her, hoping it would drown out the ache that had begun to grow within her.
When she finally turned off the water, the steam had filled the room, blurring the edges of her reflection in the mirror. She stood there for a moment, staring at herself—a tired, dirty girl who had fought too hard just to stay alive. The exhaustion hit her like a freight train then. Mentally drained, physically worn down.
Mara stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a soft towel, and shuffled out of the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the hallway mirror—eyes dark with fatigue, her skin pale, and her hair still damp, sticking to her face in a way that only added to her exhaustion.
But despite the hunger gnawing at her stomach, she could not bring herself to care. She was too tired to eat. Too tired to think.
She crawled into her bed, the sheets cool against her skin, and pulled the covers up around her. She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would grant her some peace, but the emptiness of her necklace around her neck lingered. The loss of her mother's last gift weighed on her like a leaden stone, and as her mind drifted into an uneasy sleep, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find it again.
And if she did, would it even matter?
The darkness of the room enveloped her, and Mara finally succumbed to the silence of the night, her exhaustion taking over, but her mind still haunted by the lost piece of her past.