I never had much—a rented apartment and an architecture degree I stopped using when Dad fell ill. I spent years caring for him until the day of the will reading finally came.
Everyone smirked and shifted when the lawyer announced their inheritances. Cousin Daniel smiled as he heard Dad left him the workshop. Rachel inherited the lake house—she’d barely called in two years. Kyle got the Cadillac, the car Dad never let anyone touch. I stayed silent, expectations low.
Then the lawyer paused and looked at me. “To Evelyn… this key.” A velvet box was passed across; inside lay a small, rusty key. No tag, no note.
Cold laughter echoed behind me. I gripped the key tightly.
Daniel eventually sat beside me and offered a meaningless excuse, claiming Dad “wasn’t himself” near the end. Then came his real offer: “If I sell the workshop, I’ll give you half. Or I’ll buy that key from you… ten thousand dollars.” For a rusty key.
Something in me twisted. Why would he care now—unless he knew what it unlocked.
I agreed to his offer—but only to uncover the truth.
