The Ring in the Attic

I found my grandfather's wedding ring in a box he lost in 1952. He searched for

it his entire life. Passed away ten years ago still wondering where it went.

Last week, I bought an old house being demolished across town. Started clearing

the attic and there it was, sitting in a cracked jewelry box. His initials carved

inside. But here's what doesn't make sense. My grandfather never lived in that house.

Never even visited that neighborhood. I asked my grandmother. She went pale. Said he proposed

to her in the field where that house now stands. Seventy years ago.