Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said as I choked back the tears.
I found the bracelet curled up in the corner of the backpack. I grasped it between my index- and middle finger and pulled it out of the hole.
I stared at the stainless steel bracelet with the multi-coloured charms, each a handmade little masterpiece: a small ballet dancer, a little foot, a full moon, two tiny crowns, a wolf, a little castle, and…
I stopped running the charms through my fingers. I never questioned them. I always thought they were just pretty little trinkets, but they weren't. “Troy?” I whispered.
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