sound just in time to see a huge fireball billow into the sky and then disperse in a million orange and yellow sparks. Glowing cinders flew in all directions and twinkled like copper-colored stars.
Her grandfather covered her eyes with one of his big, soft hands. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay.” But the despair in his voice said otherwise. It wasn’t going to be okay, and even at her young age, she knew her life was going to change forever.
“Earth to Ashley!”
Ashley blinked.
“Come in, Ashley!” Walter waved his hand in front of her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Ashley gave him a brief nod. Walter’s voice sounded like her grandfather’s, an echo of love traveling across thousands of lonely nights, bringing comfort, yet drawing tears. Are you okay? the voice repeated, tugging at her heart as the memories streamed away from her mind. She firmed her chin. It was a terrible time to cry. She had to stay strong.
“You zoned out,” Walter continued. “What’s rattling up there in that souped-up brain of yours?”
She brushed away a tear. “I finally remember the night when the slayers killed my parents.”
“Really? Any clues that’ll help us find your father?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe searching around will trigger another memory.”
“There’s not much here to search through,” Walter said, kicking a brick fragment. “Someone really cleaned this place up—no broken drywall, no plumbing, not even the kitchen sink, but your mother found where the fireplace used to be. She says that’s important.”
With Karen standing at her side, Thigocia pawed the dirt at a raised portion of earth on the opposite side of the foundation. “We hid the keepsake box under the hearth. If it is still here, it should be under one of the bricks.”
Ashley pulled the bag strap higher on her shoulder and hustled with Walter to the site. While Walter traced the edges of the brick layer with a pocket knife, Ashley stroked her mother’s neck. “Seeing this place brought back a lot of memories, including what happened the night you died.” She pulled out her tissue and dabbed her nose. “I was in the woods when our house exploded.”
Thigocia’s ears twitched, and her eyes darted between the foundation and the forest. “When we finish here, I will tell you more about that night, but I dare not lose my concentration while I am monitoring the danger. It seems to be slowly increasing.”
“I got it!” Walter called. He pried up the edge of a loose brick and began tossing fragments to the side. When the opening was about six inches square, he plunged his hand into a hole and withdrew a black metal case about the size of a music box, bent on the top and rusted along every edge. Rising to his feet, he handed it to Ashley. “I guess you should do the honors.”
Ashley glanced at her mother and slowly opened the box. Inside, there were four compartments. One held a folded piece of paper; the second, a gold ring with a mounted red gem; and the third, three coins—a dime and two pennies. The fourth compartment was empty.
“Is that a rubellite?” Karen asked, pointing at the gem.
“That was my ring.” Thigocia lifted her clawed hand. “I stopped wearing it when I realized that Devin was still alive and stalking me.”
A breeze lifted the folded paper, but Karen pinched the edge and kept it in place.
Thigocia touched Ashley’s back with her wing. “The paper is the telegram Gabriel sent to congratulate us on your birth.”
Walter pushed the lid farther open, and it broke free from its rusty hinges. “Ooops! Sorry!” He set the lid carefully on the ground. “I was trying to get a better look at the coins. Why were you saving them?”
“When we left the hospital after Ashley was born, Timothy bought a newspaper and coffee from an elderly street vendor. When the man gave Timothy those coins in change, he closed Timothy’s fingers around them, and I will never forget what he said. ‘The dime represents the ten spies who quaked at the sight of giants in the Promised Land. They are chaff in the wind, a dime a dozen. But the pennies represent the two faithful witnesses who believed God would conquer the Nephilim. They are the widow’s mites—copper coins, yet rare gems—a gift that Jesus declared far more valuable than the treasure of kings. Keep these coins and never forget God’s promises.’”
Ashley plucked the dime from the box. “What should