Then toward the door.
“Help me with my robe.”
Sophie did.
Margaret pulled it tightly around herself.
“I need my box.”
“What box?”
“The cedar box in the bottom of my closet.”
Sophie opened the closet.
Shoes sat in neat rows.
Sweaters were folded above them.
At the very bottom was a small wooden box.
It had a brass latch.
Sophie carried it over.
Margaret reached beneath her pillow.
She removed a tiny silver key.
Sophie had never seen it before.
Margaret unlocked the box.
Inside were photographs.
Old letters.
Newspaper clippings.
And a sealed envelope.
Margaret lifted one photograph.
It showed a family of four.
Richard stood behind Margaret.
A young boy stood beside them.
A little girl with dark curls smiled at the camera.
“That was Emily.”
Sophie held the photograph carefully.
“She looks like you.”
Margaret nodded.
“She had my eyes.”
She touched the picture.
“She hated peas.”
