He lifted his hand to pick it up and placed it on his lap.
The box was heavier than he had imagined.
Perhaps because of its age, the box was tightly sealed, and it took Noah Drexler some effort to open it.
Inside were some scattered items, but each of them was wrapped carefully in plastic, showing her deep care for these possessions.
Noah reached out with his long fingers and picked up a pair of small pink gloves wrapped in several layers of plastic. The gloves were so small that only a child a few years old could wear them.
"This is the only thing my mother knitted for me," Summer Shawcross explained as she looked at the glove in Noah's hand.
"Because she passed away not long after I was born."
Listening to her words, Noah's handsome face paused with an expression, recalling what she had said when she handed the box to him.
She said this box was something she couldn't lose, even if it cost her life.
