Locked In

1

AINSLEY

I’d had someone killed once.

Theon Ryder.

It was something I knew I would never be able to forget, no matter the approach or times I forced myself to think otherwise.

But I barely thought about it now. I had much better things to focus on. Such as the Bohemian woman in front of me.

“You don’t sell fake stuff, and then call me a thief for returning it. I need my money back,” I gritted, running out of patience already. The air in the dimly lit tent was thick with the scent of incense and the faint hint of popcorn from the nearby carnival stands. The Bohemian lady, draped in layers of colourful fabrics and adorned with an array of jangly jewellery, looked up from her cluttered table with a frown.

She shook her head as though she was completely innocent and I was the crazy one for accusing her. Scammer. “Look, little girl—”

“I’m twenty-four,” I fired, slapping her gemstone locket onto her table with a sharp crack, my anger boiling over. The once-sparkling gemstone had shattered into pieces the moment it hit the floor of my house yesterday. “I want my money back,” I said. My voice came out rough and strained. “The emerald inside was fake. It fell out as soon as I got home, and look at it—completely and fucking shattered!”

“You’re certain you didn’t smash it by—”

I scoffed. “Would you smash something you bought for thirty-five dollars?” I felt my face flush with indignation. “I don’t need a professional to tell me this is just glass. It broke when I dropped it on my floorboard. I trusted you to sell me something real. I worked my ass off for that damn money, woman.”

“Well, young lady, none of my customers have come to me with this allegation.”

“Let me guess, you’ve said this line like a hundred times to different people. I was all by my-fucking-self last evening when you came to me. I didn’t beg you to sell it to me.”

It was the truth. I’d been standing on my own, taking in the festival when she came to me with her collections, asking me to buy one of them. The locket had caught my eyes the second I saw it. It triggered something in me. A memory. I’d seen something like it before, but I couldn’t quite place my mind on where. That was why I bought it, unaware it was a fake. It looked very eye-catching with the emerald enclosed inside the heart shaped thing.

“Neither did I force you to buy it. I know your type. And I won’t be duped anymore.”

I was flabbergasted. “Duped? Don’t try to play victim with me. I’ve had a fucking shitty day and I swear you don’t want to top that list tonight.” I was so prepared to climb over her table at this point and rip out her safe from wherever she hid it.

The lady’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her calm demeanour didn’t waver. Without a word, she reached for a small brass bell hidden beneath the folds of her draped garments and gave it a sharp ring. The sound cut through the thick, perfumed air with a clarity that settled cold in my bones. Bitch .

I began to climb, desperate to get my hard-earned money back, but two burly men appeared and grabbed my shoulders, shoving me away.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, my voice raw with frustration. I tried to push past them, but one of the men grabbed my arm with a grip that felt like iron. The Bohemian lady remained seated, her expression inscrutable.

“I suggest you leave now before things escalate further,” she said calmly. “You’ve made your point, and I’ve made mine.”

The man holding my arm tightened his grip, and panic swallowed me. “This is ridiculous!” I cried out, but my protest was drowned by the din of the carnival outside, and the lady’s words faded into the background. The men began to escort me roughly towards the exit of the tent. I struggled against their hold, but their strength was overpowering. As they pushed me out of the tent and into the cold night air, I could only watch helplessly as the entrance to the tent closed.

I sat there, on the ground, fighting the urge not to cry for the thousandth time today. I failed, and the tears rushed out of me, shaking my body. People breezed past me, probably giving me weird glances, but none of it mattered, I’d done worse in public.

I lay on my bed, my eyes drifting over the view from my window. The town was bathed in the soft glow of early evening, streets winding through patches of shadow and light. It was quiet, save for the occasional distant murmur of life. There was a short knock on my door before it became persistent, my name following.

“Ainsley, I know you in there. Come on, I don’t mind you dying, but you gotta inform me first.” He knocked harder, and I drew in a sharp breath before sitting up, knowing he would make a home at my front door if I didn’t answer.

I put my legs back in the cover sheet when his keys jingled, and I heard the soft click of the door, his quick footsteps drawing close.

He opened my bedroom door and stopped, not moving from the doorstep. He crossed his arms, leaned on the frame, and began to watch me.

I stared back at him.

He didn’t break eye contact.

“The fuck you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“I could ask you the same. Why did you leave the carnival last night without telling me? I tried your phone multiple times but it kept redirecting me to voicemail. Is there something wrong?”

I chuckled. Was there something wrong? It wasn’t just something, my whole life was wrong. My existence was wrong, a mistake. Everyday kept getting worse, pushing me closer to the negative thought swimming in my head. Suicide.

“Ainsley, you’re okay?”

I shook my head, the urge to let everything out suddenly too overwhelming to bear. I would feel much better talking to someone about it. Vin was the closest thing to a best friend in this town. We met briefly three years back, and saw each other here seven weeks ago, but it felt like I’d known him since childhood.

I told him about the carnival incident and how I paid for a stupid locket with the money I got from working relentlessly for one week. Yes, I was unemployed, and he was aware. I had packed up my life in Melbourne, leaving behind the only apartment I’d ever called my own because I couldn’t scrape together the rent. Coming back to this half-broken house, the only thing left from my father, was a bitter reminder of how far I’d failed. I had hoped to find some stability here, but instead, I was stuck doing odd jobs—cleaning houses, running errands, anything that would put a little cash in my pocket. It was humiliating, really.

I let out a harsh laugh, more of a snort than anything else. “I’m holding on, Vin. Doing whatever work I can find. It’s not exactly what I imagined I’ll be doing at this stage of my life. And that locket…” I trailed off, feeling the weight of my frustrations and anger pressing down on me. “I just fucked up really bad.”

“You did nothing wrong. Hey.” Vin’s eyes softened as he closed in, and I could see the genuine concern in his gaze. I was so tired of feeling like I was falling apart, of looking for jobs that never seemed to come through. I would never tell anyone, but last week, I scooped a sick, old man’s poop from his bed just because they said they’d pay me twenty-five dollars. Usually, when I cleaned houses, washed the dishes and did any other labour in anyone’s yard, I was often rewarded with twelve dollars, so when I was offered twenty-five dollars, I couldn’t find the dignity to refuse.

“You should have told me about it. I would have torn her tent to get the money back.”

Still desperate for the money, I said, “We can get it back.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. Carnival ended yesterday. And only God knows where she’s...headed.” His speech slowed as he approached my dresser, his gaze fixating on the cluttered surface.

“What? Never seen a messy dresser?” I tried to deflect, my voice laced with forced casualness.

But Vin wasn’t looking at the mess. His brows furrowed in confusion as he focused on something specific. “You said the locket was broken.” He lifted his hand from the surface, and my heart stopped when I saw what he was holding.

The locket dangled from Vin’s fingers, its emerald gleaming with a brilliant, almost otherworldly light. It was the same locket I had slammed onto the table in frustration and left behind. Only now, it was intact, the emerald glowing better than before. I stood up abruptly, my legs feeling like lead as I crossed the room. The sight of the locket—so perfectly restored—sent a chill through me. I reached out and took it from Vin’s fingers, my own trembling as I felt its cool weight.

“How did it get here?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve been home since the carnival. I’ve hardly left this room. How is it not only back but perfect...and different. How did it get here?”

“How different? Look, Ainsley, I know you’re going through a lot—”

“Everything is different about it. Believe me, Vin, this was not here before.”

“No one else could have placed it there. You locked your door, remember? Who came in?”

“No one.”

Vin sighed. “You’re not making any sense, Ainsley.”

I’d been sleeping, and the only time I stepped out of my room was to go to the kitchen to make my lunch. This wasn’t the same locket I bought from that woman. The gemstone from that one had fallen out of the locket and shattered when it hit the ground. Besides, it was a newly polished locket—one could tell from the smell. But this was nothing like that fake one. This locket was old, had small scratches, but the emerald had not dulled. It was familiar, so fucking familiar now. And it bothered me so much. Where have I seen it? Where? Where?

Releasing a breath, I turned the locket in my hand, my brows pinching when a small, folded paper lay under the gemstone. I glanced up at Vin, finding him as curious as I was.

Swallowing, I picked it and handed the locket to Vin, unfolding the neatly folded sheet of paper.

Ainsley Jenl Hades. It’s high time we met again.