“How ‘bout you tell us why we are all here?”“How ‘bout I just show you?” Emma said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a set of keys...and unlocked the front door of the store.She walked inside and flipped the light switch on the wall to the right of the door. Fluorescent lights hummed for a moment before kicking on and illuminating the large, open area. We’d been unable to gauge the size through the blocked windows but now, inside, we could see that the store was respectably large; I. The first was an antique leather-bound journal with a worn strap holding its covers shut, the second was a heavy envelope with my name, Melissa Gordon, written on it in neat (if old-fashioned) cursive hand. The letter inside was typed on expensive heavy-weight paper that had the company watermark in the center of the page. The letter explained that the law firm had been retained by a small, independent museum to find and return the accompanying diary to the nearest living heir of the doner.. More

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