Averie Clifton

Paywall

The metal of the pendant is cool in the palm of his hand. Jamal runs his thumb across its surface absently, helping to dull the faded edges of engraved work even further. A simple golden locket with a rose engraved on its surface; tiny lines, meant to resemble vines, he supposes, emanating from the flower are etched into the heart-shaped trinket in a somewhat intricate pattern. He knows that it had once belonged to his mother, although he was not sure where she had gotten it herself, before giving it to him once he was old enough that he was no longer allowed to live at home.