The rusted metal box was unearthed in the backyard, glinting in the late afternoon sun. Sarah stared at it, a knot tightening in her stomach. Her sister, Emily, was positively thrilled, babbling about childhood memories that flickered across her face like old home movies. Sarah couldn't remember anything. Not burying it, not the contents, not even the vague concept of a time capsule. She found herself picking at a loose thread on her sweater, her gaze drifting between Emily's animated expressions and the box itself.
Emily insisted on opening it immediately, beckoning Sarah closer with a flourish. Inside, nestled among yellowed newspapers and a faded photo, was a heart-shaped locket. Emily gasped, recalling how they’d both poured over catalogues deciding which necklace to include. Emily’s voice was high with excitement, describing the secret friendship pact they had made, which clearly neither she nor Sarah had been party to.
A wave of heat flushed Sarah's cheeks as she watched Emily delicately hold the locket, tracing its contours with her fingertip. Sarah stepped backwards, feigning interest in the now dusty soil. "That's lovely," she managed to say, the words feeling brittle on her tongue. The sunshine suddenly seemed too bright, the air thick and oppressive.