The door creaked open. Cool air drifted out from darkness beyond.
She took a step, and another, hand guiding along soft, dusty walls. Her other hand searched above.
A dim globe created great shadows behind piles of books, old chests and dusty boxes. She knelt beside a lone one, a lump forming in her throat, hand hovering over her stomach.
She lifted the lid and a tear fell, disappearing into a baby blue blanket.
Beneath, she saw a brass key and froze, remembering countless, frantic searches as she smiled, picturing the car in the room beyond.
This week’s contribution to the Carrot Ranch’s weekly challenge. Inspired by both Charli Mills’ prompt, an Old Mystery and my better half whose humour always trumps my own.