"You got a package," Matt said, as he went through the morning mail.
"Who's it from?" Charlie asked.
"Don't know. There's no label."
"How do you know it's for me then?"
Matt held up the tag, which had "Charlie Allen" written in flowing script.
Charlie took the box and began carefully removing the pink paper. "Why would they line the box with plast--?" He gasped and dropped it on his desk.
"What is it?" Matt asked.
"A heart."
"Candy? Paper?" Matt asked, fearing the worst.
"Human."
Matt leaned over and peered into the box. "Uh, Chuck..."
"Yeah?"
"It's still beating."