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Something Old, Something New Small things always sent Sydney running to find her box, high on a closet shelf. Standing on tip-toes, she reached, forgetting that that like her apartment, the new box was near-empty. The fire had stolen many things, but she missed her past the most – not the last two years, but all the others. The old box was brimming with photos of family and friends, of holidays and birthdays, of idols once perfect, now fallen. Still, the new box had something the old one didn’t, something Sydney once believed it would never have: a photo of Sydney, all grown-up, hugging Jack.
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