We photographed every page, replaced each sheet in order, and left the originals in the box until Russell could advise on preservation.

Behind the holiday ornaments I found Dad’s old wooden watch case.

Empty.

He had given me the watch on the day I opened Buckeye’s first storefront.

I’d kept the case because his handwriting was inside the lid: For Rebecca, who never stops showing up.

Seeing Monica wear it made my chest ache in a way prison never had.

Opal quietly closed the case and put it in my hand.

“That’s yours,” she said.