That was when my eyes fixed on the shining metal object resting in his right palm.

“Where did you get that silver locket?” I demanded, pointing straight at the oval pendant.

“I remember that piece from every one of my mother’s childhood scrapbooks.”

Lucas brushed his calloused thumb gently across the little dent in the decorative silver case.

“Joanne trusted me with this many years ago,” Lucas replied, his gaze calm and steady.

“That necklace was reported stolen when I was eight,” I protested, shaking my head in disbelief.

“No, that was just the handy story she told you so you wouldn’t ask questions,” Lucas answered.