Free The Star Child (The Star Child Series) by Stephanie Keyes Page B

frame held my attention for a long time until I realized that I wasn’t looking at a letter. It was a framed piece of sheet music. Standing, more steadily this time, I crossed the dusty floor to get a closer look.
    As I approached the frame, I identified the piece of music immediately.
    Come walk with me
    Along the sea
    And search for shells on the sand with me
    What magick we will find today
    Take my hand, little one
    Come and walk with me.
    “Come walk with me…” I began, singing the first few bars of the melody while unconsciously reaching up to touch the glass in the frame. My voice broke, though, and I found that I couldn’t continue.
    It had been our song. My mother would sing it to me when we went hunting for seashells on the beach at Gran’s or back home during trips to the shore. She also used the song to sing me to sleep. Closing my eyes, I listened to my memory of her voice in my head. It was still there, though the integrity of it had faded with time.
    When I looked at the music again, I decided to take the frame down to my room. Placing a hand under its wooden exterior, I slid it up the wall slightly and pulled it off the hook. What I found caught me off guard.
    The frame was concealing a hole in the wall behind where the picture had been placed. A skilled carpenter didn’t create the opening; it was crude and looked as though someone just started hammering away. There were pale pencil marks on either side of the frame’s position, an aid in the creation of the hiding place.
    Peering in, I could see something white that stood out against the dark interior. Without hesitation, I reached inside and grabbed a stack of letters. My mother’s handwriting stood out as they came into view. Searching the opening again resulted in finding a long thin box. Needing the exterior light, I carried it to the window, opening the box as I went.
    Inside was a pendant, which appeared very old. It was made of gold with some sort of unfamiliar symbol emblazoned on its weathered exterior. I was about to put it back into the box when I noticed the small note in the box, which read simply: For Kellen .
    Though the pendant was a nice gesture, I was unsure of why someone would have left this for me. It was my mother’s handwriting, but how could she have known I’d find this secret spot? After searching for some other explanation and finding none, I shoved the pendant into the left pocket of my jeans.
    My attention returned to the opening in the wall. Pointing the flashlight into the hole, I found two other large stacks of letters, which I grabbed. Many of them were addressed to me in my mother’s handwriting, which brought a smile to my face.
    ***
    With the contents of the hiding spot in my hands, I headed to the kitchen for breakfast. After taking some leftover ham from the fridge and pouring a cup of strong coffee, I walked outside into the bright backyard.
    A warm sensation brushed against my leg the moment I crossed the threshold. Glancing down, I jumped when the dog from the previous night rested his head on my knee. It was a setter.
    “You're real, right?" I patted him on the head.
    The dog whined in response but didn't move. Not having any experience with dogs, I wasn’t sure what to do. Stroking the top of his head seemed to be working, so I kept it up. After a moment of this, I noticed that his attention was focused on my food and I couldn’t help laughing.
    “Hey, buddy. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
    The dog responded with a distinct nod, so I fed him the rest of my breakfast there under the warmth of the sun.
    “You’re a good dog.” I smiled as I ran my fingers through his silky fur. I didn’t feel as though I was the same person who went into the attic yesterday. I’d learned too much to go back to being the person that I was before. The most important thing was beating against the inside of my skull repeatedly and giving me a headache; my mother didn’t die when I was a child.
    Walking back into