The Mourning Locket is a supernatural thriller about an agency called the Inheritance Bureau, a place where heirlooms hold the emotional residue of the dead and where objects literally remember their owners. At the center is Dr. Cassian Vale, an empath whose contact with a Civil War locket sets off a chain reaction of visions, secrets, and dangerous revelations. The book follows him and his team as they uncover the Bureau’s buried experiments, confront its founder, and wrestle with the cost of inheriting pain that isn’t theirs. From the opening scene of Clara Alden’s locket humming at her deathbed to the Bureau’s escalating malfunctions and betrayals, the story blends memory, grief, and identity into a spiraling mystery that ties past and present together.

I was hooked by the atmosphere. The writing carries this heavy, electric hush that makes even quiet moments feel alive. The way the book treats objects as emotional sponges really grabbed me. It’s eerie but tender at the same time, and I kept pausing just to absorb the mood. Scenes like the introduction, where the narrator talks about antiques holding fingerprints and sorrow rather than beauty, hit hard because they feel so human and so haunted at once . I loved that the supernatural elements never felt like gimmicks. They feel like feelings we’ve all avoided or held onto too long. And the characters, especially Cassian and Arden, are written with these little cracks that make them feel both fragile and stubborn. Their connection feels like the kind of closeness born from shared damage rather than romance or convenience.

I also found myself getting swept up in the Bureau’s darker layers. The Blood Ledger, the Silent Lens, the old experiments Callen buried, those ideas are so unsettling because they twist empathy into a tool instead of a virtue. The Apparatus section especially pulled me in. It’s wild and emotional and messy, and it made me feel that buzzing thrill you get when a story finally shows its teeth. Some chapters hit so fast and sharp that I had to slow down to follow every detail. The book lets consequences linger. It lets the characters stay complicated. And honestly, I appreciated the streaks of humor tucked into tense moments. They feel like how real people actually cope, with snark, with tired jokes, with “I stopped for denial” energy.

By the end, I walked away feeling like I’d read something strange and warm and unnerving, all in the best ways. I’d recommend The Mourning Locket to readers who like emotion-driven supernatural stories, to people who enjoy found-family dynamics with rough edges, and to anyone who loves mysteries that grow teeth as they unravel. If you like fiction that feels a little haunted and a little hopeful, and if you enjoy worlds where empathy is both power and liability, this book will be right up your alley.

Pages: 138 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0FW5NDTPV