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door.
    “Eva, wait for me please,” my mother said, taking up the lead. “I just want to be sure it’s safe. There could be rotten floor boards, among other things.”
    “Yes, ma'am,” Eva said as she followed my mother into the house.
    I stopped on the porch and looked around. I remembered coming here when I was younger. There used to be a swing on the porch, but now all that was left were the hooks it use to hang from. Before I entered the house another memory pulled at me like déjà vu. I shook it off as I walked through the door.
    The stair s were right ahead and wound their way to the upper floors of the house. There was one of those weird electric chair things that people had installed on their staircases when they were too old to climb them any longer, although, it looked like it hadn’t been used in some time. I set my bag down as I turned around, surveying the foyer.
    To the right of the front door was the living room. There were magazines and newspapers everywhere. There was a small television on top of an old table that looked as if it could collapse at any minute. The whole house seemed unlived in, but to mine and my mother's surprise, it seemed fairly clean and well organized, until we entered the library. The desk was littered with books, several of them opened. Bookshelves lined the walls and stretched high, up to the second story ceiling. There was one of those ladders connected to a railing that ran around the room so you could climb to the second story balcony. I was suddenly reminded of Belle singing excitedly about her favorite book and gliding along on one of these ladders in Beauty and the Beast. I had seen it at least 100 times when I was a kid. Somehow though, I felt more like I had just entered the Beast's castle and was being watched. The hair on my neck stood up and I whirled around, certain someone was behind me. There was nothing there.
    As my mother and friends explored the rest of the downstairs, I looked through the desk hoping to uncover some more information about my grandmother. First I found an old yellowing newspaper. It was folded in half and  falling apart, so soft it seemed as if it had been held very often. I turned it over and saw an article circled in dark ink. 'Allison and Jack Foster are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter, Carolin e Grace, born January 12, 1989'. I pulled the paper clip from the top and found another newspaper with Carson's birth announcement circled as well.
    I immediately started digging out the rest of the drawer contents when my fingertips brushed something soft. I pulled out a velvety black bag. Inside there was a smooth, cool, silver box, about the size of my palm. I turned it over in my hand, and saw the name Jillian etched into the box. At that second, I swore something moved. I turned in a quick circle, nervous eyes darting around. My quaking hands drew my attention back to the box and I started undoing the latch.
    "Caroline, what did you find?" My mother asked, walking up to stand next to me.
    "This box has Jillian's name on it."
    "Let me see that," my mother said.
    I placed the box in her hand just as Anne Marie and Eva came into the room.
    "Whoa, look at all these books!" Anne Marie squealed. She loved to read. Especially fantasy novels with princes and damsels in distress.
    "Don't get carried away Marie," said Eva. "We're not on vacation, so I doubt we'll get a lot of reading done while we're here."
    Anne Marie looked sullen, but then turned to me and smiled. "What's going on in here?" She asked.
    "I just found this box with Jillian's name etched into it."
    "I remember this box," my mother said, and slowly opened it.
    I watched the blood drain from her face as she recognized the contents . She sank to her knees in front of me and I immediately joined her there on the floor. "Mom, what is it?" I asked.
    "It's Jillian's locket."
    "Okay?"
    "She never took it off that I remember." She picked up the locket, rubbing her thumb over the