Chapter 64 You'll Die By His Hands

• “Fine,” I rasp at last, voice hoarse. “I’ll tell you. But why are you so obsessed with that necklace, anyway?” I squint against the harsh overhead light, trying and failing to see him clearly. All I can make out is a looming shadow pacing back and forth like a restless predator.
• “It’s just a stupid necklace,” I add. “Fake. Trust me.”
• He growls—a low, guttural, vicious sound that makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. He knows I’m lying.