Edgar stood up, his movements now slow and a little unsteady, and went to a small wooden drawer in the corner of the room. He brought out a small, velvet-lined box, the very same one he had given her before, the one that held her mother's pearl necklace and a handful of other things, treasures he had kept hidden away for nearly two decades. Delia looked on, confused, as he sat back down and placed them gently on the small table in front of her.
"Here," he said, his voice a soft, raspy whisper.
