She slips the necklace over your head with both hands, careful not to tangle your hair. Her fingers linger on the back of your neck, cold against your skin.

“It’s for protection,” Lottie says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You glance down. The pendant is small, smoothed by time and handling. You can’t tell if it’s a broken charm or something carved by hand. It looks like it was never meant to belong to anyone but her.

“It was mine,” she adds, like that explains everything. Like that makes it work.

You stare at her. The way her eyes shine like she’s seeing something that isn’t there. Or maybe something that is, just beyond your reach.

“Protection from what?” you ask.

She doesn’t answer right away. Just tucks the chain beneath your shirt, pressing her palm over it. Right over your heart.

“Everything,” she says softly. “As long as you wear it, nothing can take you from me.”