I found the old thing in the attic. It sounds like the beginning of a mystery novel, where a young sleuth finds an old letter in an attic and solves a case, but this is much less cliche and much more depressing.
What I found was an ornate Edwardian mirror, full length, embedded with small stones and made of a hard copper. It was beautiful, and so old I had to blow dust off of it.
"I think it's been here since your grandmother lived here, Vic," said my mom. "You can keep it if you want. It would fit in the corner."
I was excited because we found several other things that day, among them a nice storage trunk and several sets of pearl necklaces and a suitcase full of vintage dresses worth a nice sum. I opted to keep all of them.
I stood the old mirror in the corner of my small room, smiled, and tapped the glass. My reflection smiled back.
I should have known.
