It didn't take long for Sandra to find her Aunt's jewelry box.  It sat on a bookshelf filled to the brim with leather bound editions of books, the titles of which were so obscure, the youngest must have gone out of print a hundred years ago.  She stood on the second to last shelf and heard it creek insultingly under her weight as she reached for what peeked out from the top of the ornately designed bookshelf.  In a jade encrusted box resembling a Faberge egg, strings of pearls of every imaginable color wound around themselves like hibernating coral snakes.  

It was not what she had expected to find.  Not from one as rich as her aunt.  In fact, she suspected the box was worth more than what it concealed.  Still, she rummaged through and came upon a dried up bird fetus...

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