Ten years ago, her first love vanished without a trace. No goodbye, no warning - just a voicemail she never opened and a necklace she never found. She moved on. Mostly. Until today, when a small cardboard box showed up on her porch. No postage. No name. Just her name on the top - in his handwriting. And inside? The necklace. This story is about what we bury, what we forget, and what always finds its way back.