The Weight of a Locket

Her grandmother’s locket held more than just memories—it carried the scent of lavender, the warmth of a hug, and the echo of a lullaby long gone.  

Claire traced the worn edges, her fingers seeking comfort in the cool metal. Inside, the tiny photo smiled back at her, faded but familiar—Claire’s young mother. 

She pressed it to her heart, remembering soft hands braiding her hair and the whispered stories before sleep. 

The world felt colder without her, but the locket pulsed with love, unbroken by time. She fastened it around her neck, a silent promise: some love never fades.