Uncle Shom Part3 -

He stood slowly, his knees cracking like dry twigs. He held a single key in his palm. It was black iron, warm to the touch, and shaped like a question mark.

“That lock was placed there the night your mother left,” he said. “She asked me to keep it closed until you were old enough to understand.” uncle shom part3

I felt the air change. The house groaned. Somewhere above us, a clock began to tick backward. He stood slowly, his knees cracking like dry twigs

“That some doors aren’t meant to keep things out,” he said. “They’re meant to keep something in.” He stood slowly

Part 1 was the jar of fireflies that never died. (He shook it on Christmas Eve, and they spelled a name I’d never heard: Liora. )