A Box of Forgotten Photographs
I drove home with my thoughts spinning.
That night, after Lily had fallen asleep, I opened the cardboard boxes stored in the hallway closet.
We had packed them years ago when Adrian’s parents downsized. Inside were old photographs, documents, and scattered pieces of family history no one had ever fully gone through.
The smell of dust and time rose as I lifted the lid.
There were childhood photos of Adrian, school portraits, holiday pictures, and envelopes filled with forgotten papers.
Then I noticed something that didn’t belong.
A hospital wristband.
The plastic strip sat inside a yellowed envelope.
Printed on it was a name.
“Emma Leigh Dalton.”
The date beside it matched the same month Lily had been born.
My heart started to pound.
