I reach for an emerald necklace, but as soon as my fingers make contact with it, I feel a rush of emotion, and I immediately retract my hand, my heart beating wildly. I don’t try touching it again.

Closing the box, I approach the shelves. I take out the book closest to me. Brushing off the dust, I realize it’s a strategy book, written in delicate penmanship. The paper is fragile, but the tome is bound with great care. The other side of the shelf seems to have hard-bound journals. It’s ...