It wasn’t in the attic of her old house, or buried in the garden, or hidden behind a loose brick in the fireplace. It was in a drawer of her writing desk—a desk I’ve opened a hundred times. But today, I pulled the drawer out all the way. Tapped the bottom panel. It slid aside.
Today, I finally found the lock.
Here’s a short piece for Emily’s Diary – Chapter 1 , written in an intriguing, first-person style. emily's diary - chapter 1