I walked in, and the smell reminded me of Grandpa’s morning routine. Tears stung my eyes. But then I spotted a woman behind the counter, maybe mid-50s, with sharp eyes.
I introduced myself and got to the point.
“You’re his youngest girl,” she said. “He told me you’d come, eventually. He described you exactly.”
She nodded once, as if that confirmed everything.
“You’re his youngest girl.”
The woman then reached under the counter and pulled out a small key.
“He said you were the only one who’d follow it through,” she added.
I picked up the key.
“What does it open?”
“If he didn’t tell you, how would I know?” she said, shrugging.
“Why all this?” I asked. “Why not just leave me whatever this is directly?”
She leaned on the counter.
“Because you need to see it,” she said finally. “Not just get it. Walter said, if he just told you, it wouldn’t mean the same.”
“What does it open?”
I frowned. “See what?”
But the woman just shook her head.
“At the next stop, you’ll understand more.”
By the third location, a small public library on the west side, I stopped questioning it.
I walked straight to the front desk.
“Hi, I’m Angelica. I think Grandpa Walter left something for me here.”
The librarian, a man with the nametag “Harold,” didn’t even look surprised.
I stopped questioning it.
He nodded. “My buddy said you’d be the only one asking such a question.” Then he stood up and motioned for me to follow him.
We walked into a back office. He unlocked a drawer and pulled out a thin file.
“This is yours,” he said.
I opened it right there.
Inside were copies of bank records showing small, consistent deposits over the years.
Different accounts and names.
My stomach tightened as I flipped through them.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Harold adjusted his glasses. “Savings.”
“This is yours.”
“For whom?”
Harold met my eyes. I knew what that meant.
I sat in my car trying to process what was happening.
Grandpa didn’t have much. I knew that.
So where was all this coming from?
And why hide it?
Unless…
A thought began to form.
I knew what that meant.
The fourth location confirmed what I’d thought.
It was a small office building, and inside was a woman. I introduced myself and explained why I was there. The woman said her name was Diane, and she was a retired accountant.
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