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166words
He held the small box open for me like a gentleman.
"These were Evelyn's things," he said, his voice soft.
"She never wanted me to open it. She kept it closed for a long time, but I finally looked. I think you're the one who should see." Under the dim hotel light I opened the box.
Inside were scattered keepsakes and cheap little things — a childhood scrap of drawing of her wearing a crown, a cheap bead hairpiece I'd bought for her at eight, a plastic star bracelet I'd woven with bright thread, a painted charm she kept on a string. We'd given each other these trinkets as girls.
There was an agate charm on a red string I'd bought for her at twelve touting to keep people safe.
I pressed my sleeve to my eyes. They were worthless junk, and yet she had treasured them.
