1899
Helena closed her eyes. Her fingers curled around her pen tighter as she stopped writing. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes.
Her gaze quickly turned to the brown paper bag.
She closed her eyes again. She shifted her chair so the bag would no longer be in her line of sight.
She had bought it on a whim, had seen it by chance, and it was now mocking her.
She looked back at her work and read the last few lines before putting the pen down.
She was making no progress.
She stood, pushing the chair back, and picked up the bag. She slowly unfolded the top and pulled the ornament out.
The small tin horse had been sitting in a store window. One look at it and she had known that Christina would love it.
Would have loved it.
She ran her thumb over the details on the horses face, then stuffed it back into the bag. She opened a secret panel on the side of her desk, pulled out the papers and set the bag in their place.
The best gift she could get for her daughter was to find a way to save her.