"Cara," Jane Sweeney said in an excited voice, "what a pleasant surprise."

"I was in the neighborhood. I just thought I would pop in and see how you are."

They hugged.

Jane was Cara's aunt, four years older than her mother, but much younger in spirit and attitude. She had never married but had picked up a few offers and scandals along the way. Cara enjoyed her company and saw in her the kind of woman she wanted to be. Strong and independent, with a strong moral code that, for the most part, defined boundaries and steered choices.

"How is your mother?" Jane asked.

"She's up and down. I know she’s improving, but it’s slow progress."

"I know. I spoke to her last night. I’m going to meet her on Thursday night and take her to the Playhouse cinema. A new movie just opened that she wants to see."

"I'm sure she’ll enjoy that."

"And how are you? Your mother tells me that you have a new boyfriend. Who’s the lucky guy?"

Cara laughed, embarrassed. Jane continued. "Don't tell me yet. You can give me the whole story during lunch. Let me lock up the shop."

Over a plate of fish and chips, Cara recounted the Jim saga to date. She gave Jane more details than she had intended, but that always seemed to be the case. Finally, the conversation turned to the box.

"What do you mean cursed?" Jane asked, a look of surprise on her face.

"I know it sounds strange," Cara conceded. "It's just too weird to describe, but there’s something about the box. Since the picnic I have been scared and anxious, really bothered at times but not sure at what. I think I’m going a little crazy."

Cara handed the box to Jane. She examined it and placed it on the table. "Cara," she said. "You know you’re my favorite niece."

"I'm your only niece," Cara countered.

"I know, but if I had more than one, you would be my favorite."

They laughed. With the mood at the table now where Jane wanted it to be, she put on her best big sister act. "Cara, your father’s death has been very tough on you. I can't even begin to imagine what it’s been like. But you have soldiered on." Jane reached over the table and took Cara's hand in hers.

"Where others would have faltered, you have grown stronger. You have secured your future, but you have yet to accept what has happened and the toll it has taken on you."

Cara wiped away a tear that threatened to roll down her cheek. Jane continued, "It's not the box that’s getting to you; it’s everything else you have locked up inside." She stopped to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Before, I couldn't feel anything," Cara whispered.

"Then, to start your healing you must accept what has passed. You are not going crazy; you just have to understand your emotions for what they are and embrace them."

Cara pulled a tissue from her pocket and rubbed her nose. "I know, you’re right."

"Of course, I’m right," Jane said. "Am I not always right?"

"Well, not always," Cara said, managing a smile. "You did get engaged to a couple of complete losers."

"Now that's not fair. You have to admit, they were cute losers." They both laughed.

Jane returned to examining the box.

"What must Jim think of me?" Cara said, as much to herself as to Jane. "I told him the same thing last night."

"No need to worry. That boy is counting his lucky stars."

Jane dipped a napkin in her water and rubbed the box.

"What do you think it is?" Cara asked.

"I’m not sure. The writing looks Arabic, and the cross likely means it's a Christian piece. Given its condition, I’d say it hasn’t been in the ground long."

"Jim thinks it’s old, possibly a valuable antique."

"Well, that’s wishful thinking. I can't speak to its value, but tell Jim not to spend the money before he gets it!"

Cara laughed. "Well, thanks anyway."

"Sorry. I know I haven’t been much help. What I could do is post an information request online. I use several websites that deal in Christian artifacts. Someone may have more information."

"Really!" Cara said excitedly. "That would be great."

"Let’s go back to the shop. I'll take a few photos."

They quickly finished up. As they turned onto Mark Street, two police cars sped by, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

Cara watched the cars turn a corner and accelerate out of sight. She felt a chill and shivered. The vague feeling of dread swept through her.