Anna was out of breath.

She wasn’t the only one. “Carry me, Annie,” Lissy begged, dropping her popsicle stick on the ground and extending her chubby, sticky hand to her older sister.

Anna squinted at Erin. Her cousin had stopped running. She had crouched down next to a large oak tree some thirty feet away.

“Hey, Lissy-girl, I think that’s the tree Grandma mentioned,” Anna remarked, picking up the sweaty five-year-old.

Anna trudged over to where Erin stood and placed Lissy on the ground.

Their cousin was kneeling in the shade of a giant, gnarled oak tree, bending over something metallic-colored. A box, coated in rust and time.

“What’s that?” Anna cried, dropping onto the ground beside Erin.

Erin grinned, jiggling the latch of the box.

“Let’s find out,” she said.