25
"Please wait," Morgan said, rushing after her. "You said yourself that this generation might be the last. What's the harm in sharing now?"
Rachel turned back to them, her eyes darting warily towards the entrance.
"My father left a box," she whispered. "When he died without a son, without any male heirs, he told me to bury it and never to look inside." She looked down and blushed a little. "But I did look and I didn't bury it. There are fragile pages inside from old books."
"Can we see it?" Morgan asked, her heart beating faster with anticipation. "It's hard to explain why, but we think perhaps this book could save many lives and stop a powerful weapon from killing innocents."
Rachel smiled and shook her head.
"These stories of weapons and war, of love and death. This is India. Thi
