For forty years it sat atop the chestnut wardrobe. She forbade us to look inside.

“My crown’s in there,” she always said. “The only thing I saved when we fled Russia,”

Now she’s gone. My brother and I open the hatbox. No crown. Just a brittle, folded paper. One line only, in her looping script. “Ha! Fooled you.”

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Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here