Margaret picked it up carefully, her fingers trembling.
It was light. Wrapped in plain brown paper, with no name, no address, no indication of where it had come from.
She brought it inside and placed it on the kitchen table.
For several minutes, she just stared at it.
Then, slowly, she began to unwrap it.
Inside was a tape recorder.
Old-fashioned. The kind that used cassettes.
There was already a tape inside.
Margaret frowned.
Who would send her something like this?
With a mix of curiosity and unease, she pressed the “play” button.
At first, there was only static.
Then—
A voice.
Her voice.
“I don’t have much time,” the recording said.
Margaret’s breath caught in her throat.
“I don’t know how this works, or if you’ll even believe it… but you have to listen carefully.”
She stumbled back, gripping the edge of the table.
This was impossible.
The voice continued.
“You’re going to start forgetting more. Not just names. Everything. And when it happens, you won’t remember this message either.”
Margaret’s hands began to shake.
“What is this…” she whispered.
“There’s something in the house. Something you hid years ago. You thought it was the right thing to do, but it wasn’t.”
Margaret’s mind raced.
“I know you don’t remember. That’s why I’m leaving this for you. Go to the bedroom. Look under the floorboard beneath the bed.”
The tape clicked.
Silence.
---
Margaret stood there, frozen.
This couldn’t be real.
And yet…
The voice had been hers.
Every word. Every tone.
She didn’t want to believe it. But something deep inside her stirred—a faint, uneasy recognition.
Slowly, she made her way to the bedroom.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she knelt beside the bed. The floor creaked under her weight.
“Under the floorboard…” she murmured.
She reached down, running her fingers along the wood.
And then she felt it.
A slight gap.
With trembling hands, she pried the board loose.
Beneath it was a small, metal box.
---
Margaret stared at it, her breath shallow.
She didn’t remember putting it there.
She didn’t remember anything about this.
Slowly, she opened the box.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
All addressed to her.
From Daniel.
Her son.
Her hands trembled as she picked one up.
The envelope was unopened.
So were all the others.
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