It was such a simple thing. A tiny silver locket, rimmed with gold and inscribed with a single date. I ran my fingers over the gilded metal, repeating the numbers over and over again: Five. One. Nineteen ninety-five.

I shoved the locket back into the velvet box, trying to ignore the panic rising within me. There was no way they could've known. This was all just a coincidence. A very, very big coincidence.

If they really did know what I had done...

I shook the thought away. No one saw me do it. There was no way anyone could have seen me do it. I made sure of that.

Surely this was just someone else's anniversary gift, delivered to the wrong address. Or the birthdate of somebody's child. Or someone's first kiss, or a baby's first steps, or when a long-term illness finally ceased. Certainly, May 1st 1995 could mean a lot of things to a lot of people.

I shook my head and tossed the velvet box into the trash without a second thought.

There was no way they could've known.

Definitely not.

It was only when the second gift arrived that I really started to worry.