"But how?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My voice sounds smaller than I expect, thin and trembling. I keep my eyes on Eva's face, studying every small shift of expression. She looks like someone who already knows the ending of a story but she doesn't want to say out loud.
She breathes in slowly, her chest rising as if she's gathering courage. "They have something precious to you," she says. "Something your spirit is deeply connected to."
The words replays themselves in my head and I try to understand what she is trying to say.
"Precious? Connected? What could that be?"
My mind scrambles, flipping through memories, objects, pieces of myself, still nothing came to my mind.
"What could that be?" I whisper.
Eva's eyes soften, but there's nothing comforting in her expression, it holds pity. She steps closer to me, her shoes barely making a sound on the floor.
"They have the hair pin your mother gave to you."
