was a tiny ridge along the bottom edge, barely larger than a fingernail. I’d handled the box many times and never noticed it.
I pressed it.
CLICK.
The lid sprang up an inch. Spools of red and gold thread rolled into my lap.
Looking inside, I realized a false bottom had opened.
Inside was a brass key and one folded piece of paper in Marianne’s careful, slanted handwriting.
My darling girl. I told you this box would save you. Because you haven’t received the real gift yet. Go to my
