Sarah: Stay in the car with your aunt, boys.
Toby: Are we getting our old toys back, Mommy?
Sarah: I am just looking for some old family photos, sweetie.
Sarah parked her sister's beat-up car around the dark corner. The night sky was stormy and cold. She walked quietly up the familiar driveway of her lost suburban home. Yellow foreclosure notices covered the front door windows.
She unlocked the back kitchen door with her old house key. The empty house smelled dusty and old. Her footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor as she moved toward the hallway closet.
She pulled down the narrow wooden ladder leading up into the dark attic. Dust floated everywhere in the beam of her small flashlight. She climbed the creaky steps slowly, her heart beating fast inside her chest.
Sarah: What did you hide up here, Mark?
The attic was full of old cardboard boxes and discarded furniture. Sarah searched through dusty winter clothes and broken holiday decorations. She found nothing except old receipts and trash.
She sat down on an old wooden crate, feeling foolish and completely exhausted. She shined her flashlight beam across the bare wooden floorboards. Near the corner, she noticed a piece of floorboard that looked slightly uneven.
Sarah crawled on her hands and knees over to the dark corner. She pulled a small butter knife from her pocket and wedged it under the loose board. With a loud creak, the wood popped up easily.
Underneath the floorboard sat a heavy steel fireproof lockbox. A small brass key was taped directly to the dusty metal lid.
Sarah: Oh my god...
Her hands shook as she untaped the key and inserted it into the lock. The latch opened with a quiet click. Sarah lifted the heavy lid and gasped loudly.
Inside the box sat thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills wrapped in white bank bands. Beside the cash lay a thick blue envelope labeled with her full name. There was also a legal deed to a commercial building downtown.
Sarah pulled out the crisp white paper inside the blue envelope. It was a written confession signed by Mark, along with a paid-in-full property deed. He had bought a lucrative commercial plot before his addiction took over completely.
Mark's Letter: Sarah, if you are reading this, I am gone. I hid this money from my own addiction so you and the boys would survive.
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