Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

something there,” Sally whispered, her hand gripping the back of the sofa.

I pulled the envelope out slowly, careful not to tear the fragile paper. It was thick, sealed with a dark red dollop of wax that bore the imprint of our mother’s old signet ring.

“Look at the front,” Jane said, leaning so close her shoulder brushed mine.

Written in our mother’s continue reading …