“I walked into my own mansion expecting my wife to run into my arms, but instead I found my family celebrating my money while the woman I loved was missing.

glance.

That tiny key had been hanging in plain sight the entire time.

Margaret opened the cabinet.

Inside were folders, old binders, a small fireproof box, and a stack of envelopes tied with string.

Emma reached for the envelopes first, but Margaret grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t,” my mother said.

The room froze.

Emma looked down at the hand gripping her.

Then she looked at my mother.

“Let go.”

It was not loud.

It did not need to be.

Margaret released her.

Emma handed the envelopes to me.

My name was written across the top one in my father’s handwriting.

Not Daniel.

Danny.

No one had called me that since my father died.

My fingers tightened around the paper.

The envelope had been opened already.

I looked at my mother.

She looked away.

Inside was a letter dated three months before my father’s death.