Gemotions

The attic air was thick and stagnant. I grimaced, wiping sweat from my forehead. The previous owners had left behind a trove. Mostly useless junk, really. Old furniture, broken appliances. But then I saw it.

A small, velvet-covered box. I opened it, and gasped. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded silk, lay a collection of antique jewelry. Exquisite pieces, each telling a story.

I felt a certain warmth spreading through me. I knew I couldn't keep it. I would research the family, track them down. They deserved to have this returned. I imagined the woman, perhaps the matriarch of the family, and how thrilled she would be.