A glint of gold catches my eye. It’s nestled into the black wool that’s sticking out from the trunk, and I don’t have time to register the wave of shock that hits me when I see the leaping stag pattern on the button. I suddenly have to know what’s inside. I turn my attention to the lid, and my hands shake as I flip the metal latches up and lift it off. I see the rest of the gold buttons first, the leaping stags on them sending spikes of alarm through me as they march down the black wool coat, before my eyes land on the skeletal hand that rests on the folds of fabric.
