Leaning against the door and breathing heavily, Sarah held the precious parcel close to her chest. It had taken all her craft to obtain it without anyone noticing it and nothing would prevent her from unlocking its secret now. She locked the door behind her and went to her desk.
She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She placed the treasure she’d hunted for months on the desk, as she sat down. She barely could believe it: she’d succeeded. Her calculations and planning had worked. She smiled and leaned against the back of the chair. The rush of the chase was disappearing, leaving a great satisfaction and a new sort of excitement.
She grabbed her paper knife and carefully cut the bindings of the parcel; she must return it before its disappearance was noted and there should be no indication that it had been opened. She removed the cover, smoothed it on the table and looked at her discovery with wide eyes.
It looked like a book but she knew better. Still one had to admire the craft; on a bookshelf it would blend with other bindings. It was rigid yet the carvings made it look supple, as if it were made of burgundy leather. She let her fingers draw the intricate workings on the solander. It was a work of art; worthy of what lay inside.
She opened it, holding her breath, half expecting her door to be kicked in. But it wasn’t. Inside the solander she found something she had not quite expected. A paper with her name on it; she unfolded it. Inside she discovered a familiar writing.
“Did you think I would leave your birthday present in such an obvious place? Be patient. Love. Dad.”
She sighed. Frustrated. Happy. Two days to figure out what her birthday present actually was.
In response to Deviant Art Flash Fiction Month July 9 prompt