“Where did you get that?” I whispered.

“From Evelyn.

She asked me to bring it to you personally.

She also said to tell you about the blue music box.”

The porch tipped beneath me.

My mother owned a little blue music box, decorated with painted swallows.

As a child I wound its silver key and listened to a tune I could no longer name.

The box vanished along with half our possessions when my family broke apart.