My Grandfather Left Me Something They Never Wanted Me to See

halfway, then scraped forward with a dry wooden complaint.

Inside: folders, two photo albums, and a small lockbox the color of old pennies.

No key.

I checked the note again.

Use the brass key, not Richard’s.

I felt around the drawer track, under the lip, behind the folders. Nothing. Then I remembered my grandfather’s stupid habit of hiding things in plain continue reading …