Page 130 of Castings & Curses

Priya walked over, skirting around boxes and debris. Miles followed.

The ghost touched a thin chain around the old man’s neck. Watching for any sign the geezer was faking, Priya crouched, then lifted it up. A silver key dangled from the links. The child touched the key and pointed over to the trunk.

Elbows braced on his thighs, Miles rested in a half-squat. “What’s that too?”

“The steamer trunk.”

The little girl clapped her hands together, grinning delightedly.

“Let’s go find out what’s inside there,” Priya said.

All three made their way to the trunk.

The key turned easily in the lock. Priya flipped the draw-bolt latches and Miles raised the lid.

More boxes—velvet-covered jewelry boxes, shoe boxes, and pristine white cardboard in varying sizes. Priya took a gray jewelry box off the top of the pile and opened it. A delicate gold heart hung from a child’s necklace.

Miles opened a white cardboard box. “A kid’s ball cap.”

The ghost leaned in, so close that Priya held her breath, afraid the slightest touch would frighten the child away. She pointed to a shoe box and then looked expectantly at Priya.

Obeying the implicit command, Priya picked it up and removed the lid to find a red and white sneaker inside. Tears clouded her vision. “Is this Levi’s shoe?”

The little girl’s smile vanished. She nodded, running her fingers over the sneaker. After a moment, she glanced up, catching Priya’s eye, then pointed to the trunk again.

Priya picked up another box.

The ghost emphatically shook her head and jabbed her finger at the trunk.

Carefully setting the unopened box aside, Priya removed another one. Miles helped.

Two-thirds of the way down, she came across a blue velvet jewelry box.

Small fingers brushed over the velvet as she lifted it out of the trunk.

Dreading what was inside, Priya asked, “Would you like me to open it?”

Miles paused in the act of removing a box.

Even as the child’s smile broadened, her eyes looked sad to Priya. The ghost nodded.

The hinges squeaked softly as the lid opened. A locket embedded with an opaque pink stone lay on a bed of batted cotton.

“What kind of stone is that?” Miles asked.

“A pink opal. It’s a stone of love and gentleness.” Priya opened the locket and gasped. A picture was tucked inside of a young woman holding the pig-tailed girl. “Your mom?”

Hands curled over her heart, the ghost nodded.

Tears clouded Priya’s vision. The urge to cradle the girl in her arms burned like a fever.

Throat thick, she managed, “Call 911, Miles.”

“Are these … trophies?” He set the box he held back into the trunk.

“Yes.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Miles rubbed her back in slow circles as she wept. “I’ll call.”

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