The locket was intricate, with a floral design etched into its surface. It looked like something out of a period drama, not a modern attic. I took it from Kevin, turning it over in my hands. There was an inscription on the back, but it was too faint to read.
“Do you think it belonged to the previous owners?” I asked, my mind racing with possibilities.
Kevin shrugged. “Could be. Or maybe it’s been here even longer. This house is old enough to have secrets.”
I nodded, thinking back to the day we moved in. The realtor had mentioned the house’s history, but I hadn’t paid much attention back then. Now, it seemed more relevant than ever.
“We should find out who lived here before,” I said, already forming a plan. “There might be records at the local historical society or even at city hall.”
Kevin agreed. “I’ll help you dig. Could be interesting.”
With the mystery of the wall partially solved, we set about cleaning up the mess we’d made. The attic felt different now, less like a storage space and more like a living part of the house.
As we worked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the locket was a sign of something deeper. Perhaps it was just an old trinket left behind, but perhaps it was a clue to a story long forgotten.
I placed the locket on a shelf, promising myself to look into its origins. But for now, I was content with having uncovered a small part of the house’s hidden past.
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