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a shower. The thought of a cup of steaming hot java finally gave her the motivation she needed to extricate herself from her nice warm blankets and climb out of bed.

She yawned, stretched, and groggily stumbled out of her room and into the hallway. As she walked, her hand gently brushed against her chest and she abruptly stopped. A surge of panic washed over her, and she stood frozen in place, too afraid to look down at her hand.

When she finally mustered the strength to look down, her eyes went wide in horror, because what she saw dangling there was a small golden locket. The same small golden locket she had compulsively taken from the crime scene the day before. Her head swam with thoughts of losing her job, or worse, jail time. What had possessed her to remove evidence from a crime scene? In all her life, she’d never done anything so reckless and stupid.

Calm down, girl, she told herself. After a couple deep breaths, she removed the locket from around her neck and examined it.

The locket was small and circular, gold with a large red gem embedded in its center. She ran her fingers along the edges and felt raised markings. She tried to make out what they were; it looked like some kind of ancient writing. Upon further scrutiny, Dana discovered that there was a small button on the side of the locket fashioned in the shape of a tiny sword hilt.

She pushed the button and the locket popped open. Inside was a photograph—faces she recognized. Unthinking, she threw the necklace across the hallway. It landed face upward against the wall, exposing the portrait of a middle-aged Asian man and two young children. The same man and children who had haunted her dreams.

She took another deep breath and closed her eyes.

Calm down. Get your head on straight and think rationally here. There is no way that the family in your dreams and the picture from the locket are the same people. Even if they are, you must have simply opened the locket before you went to bed and seen the picture. Right? There’s always a rational explanation for everything.

Of course, she knew deep down in her gut that she had not even noticed the locket since she had pilfered it from the crime scene yesterday. She hadn’t opened it or even inspected it until now. Dread washed over her. If she had believed in such things, she would have sworn that the locket was either haunted or cursed.

Come on, girl. You are a freaking police officer, for crying out loud. Pull yourself together. You know that there is no such thing as ghosts. Curses are just the stuff of fairy tales and children’s stories.

With that, she gathered her courage and approached the small locket with the same careful caution that a trainer would use when facing a dangerous animal.

She reached down and picked it up. At first, she was afraid to look at the picture and simply held the locket at arm’s length. Before long, however, her curiosity got the better of her and she drew the small piece of jewelry up to eye level so she could get a closer look at the small picture.

Her heart thumped so hard, it felt like it would beat right out of her ribcage. This time she was certain it was the same family from her dream. There was no mistaking the faces of the two children. She had seen them murdered repeatedly in her nightmares last night.

What the hell is going on?

Grief, not fear, washed over her as she gazed on the faces that had been seared into her heart. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the overwhelming emotions from her nightmares came rushing back.

She slid down the wall until she was sitting with her knees up against her chest. The locket dangled from her fingers. She buried her face in her legs and sobbed until all her grief was spent. What was happening to her? What the hell was happening to her?

She knew she had to tell someone about the locket, but who? She could not trust the FBI investigator. He would probably lock her up and throw away the key. If she told anyone else on the force, it would put them in a compromising position, so that was out. Who else could she tell? There had to be someone.

With a sudden clarity that caused her to shoot straight up, she knew exactly who she should go to for help. Jared, she could tell him anything. He’d had her back since they were young, and she knew that she could trust him with anything, no matter how serious.

She put the locket back around her neck and returned to her normal morning routine. She was strangely calm as if the entire ordeal had never happened. In fact, she thought to herself, Maybe it really was nothing more than a dream. What was she worrying about, anyway? As she quickly got dressed and styled her hair for work, she did not notice the low, steady glow of the small gem at the center of the locket, nor that her eyes shared that very same red sheen.

Sixteen

When Dana finally arrived at work, she found the entire precinct in a state of panic. Officers were scurrying about; the usual disciplined morning routine of the agency having given way to chaos. As soon as she walked through the entrance’s metal detectors, she was approached by a tall officer she didn’t know very well.

“Detective Campbell?” the man asked, extending his hand.

“Yes,” she said, shaking it firmly.

“Sorry to bombard you, but Agent Johansson and Detective Caddret asked me to look out for you and to take you to them as soon as you arrived. Follow me, if you would.”

That’s strange, she thought, following him off toward the stairs. Why would he take me to the stairs and not to one of the conference rooms?

“Officer?”

“Steveson.”

“Officer Steveson, why are we

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