毎時、時刻が移り変わるたびに、持ち主は首飾りに秘密を囁き、しまいこんでいった。裂け目が彼女を引きずり込んでいくなら、これは彼女の形見となり、彼女の記憶となるのだろう。
Every hour, at the turning of the glass, its owner had whispered to the locket, seeding it with secrets. This would be her legacy, her memory, if the rifts should take her.
