The yellow tape I had cut with the paring knife dangled loose from the edges of the cardboard.

“What’s that?” Sarah asked.

“Something that was meant for you,” I said.

I lifted off the cardboard lid and folded back the tissue paper.

The white satin christening gown lay inside, spotless, its tiny lace collar folded neatly at the neck.

Sarah reached out a single finger and touched the hem.

Under the church lights, the fabric was smooth as glass.

“She kept it locked up in a cedar chest,” I said.