Gemotions

The renovation crew had just finished tearing out the old kitchen cabinets when they found it: a small, sealed metal box tucked behind the oven. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was too cinematic.

The foreman, a burly man named Frank, was grinning. "Bet there's gold in there!" he'd boomed, his voice echoing through the empty room. I had a feeling it wasn't gold.

Inside, nestled amongst yellowed newspaper clippings, was a tarnished silver locket and a faded photograph of a woman with sad eyes. The woman looked exactly like the portrait hanging in the upstairs hallway. The article mentioned something about a missing spouse. I closed the box, the locket heavy in my hand. Frank's laughter died in his throat.