The Time Capsule
I The iron capsule sat in the basement of the St. Augustine Community Center like a sleeping animal—rusty, unassuming, and full of teeth. Vincent Rossi stood over it with a crowbar in his right hand and his表姐's letter in his left, reading the same three sentences for the tenth time: open it, take what is yours, do not tell anyone. The letter was unsigned. It came from his cousin's husband's...
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