Emma set the jewelry box carefully inside a shoebox.

I walked over to the small bookshelf under the bedroom window.

Most of the books were new, but a thick leather spine sat on the bottom shelf.

I pulled it out and wiped the dust off the cover.

It was Laura’s old photo album from high school.

“I found that in the basement last year,” Emma said.

“Your father put it in the basement?” I asked.

“He said looking at old pictures just made people sad,” Emma said.