Brown paper. Thin string. Simple. Harmless.
Still, it made her uneasy.
“This… is for you, Emma,” he said softly, holding it out.
She didn’t take it right away. Her eyes moved between the package and his face.
“From who?” she asked.
He hesitated, glancing down the empty street before answering.
“From someone… who loved you very much.”
Emma frowned. There was only one person that could mean.
“My grandma… Rose?” she whispered.
He nodded.
A knot tightened in her chest. Her grandmother, who had passed away almost a year ago.
Slowly, Emma reached out and took the package. It was light.
“Inside there’s a letter,” the man said. “And something else. Read it when you’re alone. It’s important.”
She nodded, confused.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
He sighed quietly. “An old friend of your grandmother’s. She asked me to do this.”
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.
Emma stood there, frozen, clutching the package. The warm afternoon no longer felt comforting.
She ran the rest of the way home and unlocked the door.
“Mom, I’m home!” she called, her voice strained.
Her mother, Sarah, appeared from the kitchen, smiling. “Hi, sweetheart! How was school?”