The Truth About Us

With his back to them, her grandfather scooped more dirt over the freshly turned earth. Only a moment passed before he compressed the loose earth with the back of his shovel and rested his weight on the handle as he stared at his handiwork.

Even from a distance, Abby noted his shirt, soaked with sweat. His arms shook from the exertion.

When he turned and glanced in her direction, she ducked back behind the pine, her heart galloping in her chest. After a moment, she peeked across the yard again to find her grandfather ambling his way to the pool house on shaky legs. He returned the shovel to the squat shed, then clapped his hands to remove the caked-on dirt and rounded the house, where she assumed he would get in his car to leave.

Abby’s ears perked, as she listened and waited for the telltale sound of the engine. The purring of his car came to life before it faded into the distance.

She shot across the wide expanse of lawn and came to a stop in front of the spot where he worked. Behind her, Kaden’s labored breath filled the silence.

“Can I ask why we just spied on an old man from the trees?” he asked.

“That old man was my grandfather.”

“And that makes this any less weird how?”

Abby turned toward the pool house and called behind her, “Because I wanted to see what he was doing.” She swung the heavy doors open and retrieved the shovel inside. Kaden watched as she strode back to him and began to dig. “He either took something or he’s hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is,” she said, though her gut told her the little tin her grandmother mentioned in her letter would be missing.

“Okay.” Kaden shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

She scooped the freshly turned earth. One after another, she shoveled as Kaden watched on.

“Can I just say this makes me super uncomfortable. I mean, you’re not lying about this being your grandfather’s house, right? It seems weird. Us spying on him. Now, you’re digging in the backyard.” Kaden scratched his head as Abby glanced back at him while she worked.

She didn’t have time to reassure him right now.

Chink.

Her shovel hit something hard. She moved the blade over the dirt until she revealed a small rectangular box made of metal. Her eyes widened as she dropped the shovel and sunk to her knees. Using her nails, she scraped the object from the earth. The tin was the kind that was typically filled with cookies at Christmas, and it was buried, just like her grandmother said.

Kaden’s eyes brightened with interest. “What is it?”

“A clue.”

She flexed her fingers, poised over the lid. Ready.

She flicked it open and exhaled. The key.

She had expected there to be nothing—assuming her grandfather had come here to retrieve it, but it was still here. So, what had he been doing?

“What is it?” Kaden asked, craning his neck to see.

Abby blinked up at him. “A key,” she said, trying to make sense of what her grandfather had been doing there if not retrieving the key.

She stared at the freshly dug earth and frowned. “Maybe he was returning it,” she mumbled.

“Okay, sounds like you expected the key to be missing once you saw your grandfather digging here? I’m lost. Give me something.”

Sighing, she said, “My grandmother told me to come here, that she had buried the key to her safety deposit box in a tin, in the backyard, under the daises.”

“Your grandmother told you. Like, before she died?”

“No. After.”

Kaden’s brow furrowed above his narrowed eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re grandmother’s speaking to you from the dead, then I’m a little concerned.”

“Not in person. In a letter. She gave a letter to her lawyer to give to me. More than one, actually. And—”

“Hold up.” Kaden held up a hand and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he crouched down to where she sat and took the tin from her. “Set the thing with your grandfather aside for a moment. You said this was supposed to be some sort of clue? A key to a safety deposit box?”