Beneath the letter was a small brass key taped to the page. It was stamped with three letters:

ORY.

Daniel sat beside me after I handed him the letter.

“He knew,” I whispered.

“Maybe not everything,” Daniel said. “But enough to worry.”

Emma padded into the doorway dragging her blanket.

“Mommy, why are you sitting with treasure?”

I blinked back tears.

“Because Grandpa left us a puzzle.”

She considered that solemnly.

“Puzzles need snacks.”

For the first time since dinner, I laughed freely.

Part 5: Beatrice Comes to the Door

That afternoon, Beatrice arrived wearing oversized sunglasses and carrying a bakery box as if pastry could replace humility.

Daniel opened the door but did not invite her beyond the foyer.

I stood behind him, suddenly aware that our modest house felt warmer than the mansion ever had.

Beatrice removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were red, though I could not tell if from crying or anger.