Melanie looked at the silver eye in the box. It blinked.
Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: You kept me. Now I keep you. —P. ts pandora melanie
“Don’t call it that,” Melanie said. Melanie looked at the silver eye in the box
And somewhere across the city, Pandora opened her own left eye—Melanie’s left eye—and smiled into the dark. The box had never been Pandora’s. It had been Melanie’s. But Pandora was the lock. ts pandora melanie
The box sat on Melanie’s coffee table like a dare.
“The box. You named it.”