“What—”

It’s too tight, but he doesn’t stop until he gets it past the knuckle.

“There.” He releases me.

I pull my hand back and look at it. At the large teardrop-shaped dark stone on my finger. At the skeleton-like fingers that seem to hold the huge rock in place. Like bones. I glance at him, then instantly try to pry it off.

“It’s no use,” he says, watching me.

I still try. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it. And when he moves to stand, I swear I see that smile again. A dead man’s smile.

I feel the blood drain from my head, my vision fading as the room begins to spin.

“You belong to me now, Ivy Moreno, for better or for worse. Until death do us part.”

5

Ivy

I’m exhausted when I wake up. My head hurts as I look at the sliver of light coming in from the window.

Panicked, I check the time. I don’t want to miss Evangeline before she goes to school. It’s half-past seven. Today is Friday, which means she catches the school bus at eight.

I throw off the covers and hurry out of bed, but then stop. I look down at my hand and the foreign object there.

And I remember.

It wasn’t a dream. Did I really think it was?

I sink onto the bed, my heart racing, my eyes locked on that ring. A huge teardrop-shaped rock. A salt and pepper diamond, I think. And clutching the stone are bony fingers. I peer closer. It's so detailed, such intricate work. I try to pull it off, turning my palm when I do, but it’s impossible.

Something’s written on the band. I’m not sure it’s English: Aeternum.

Santiago De La Rosa had been in my room last night.

He’d come to give me his ring.

No, not give. He’d come to force it on my finger.

I remember how he’d looked. How he’d worn those robes and that hood over his face. He’d scared me half to death.

But maybe that was the point.

A glance at the clock tells me I need to hurry. I get up and go into the bathroom.