At Grandpa’s funeral, 18-year-old Dahlia feels isolated as her family argues over a meager $1 inheritance. But when a stranger gives her a secret note, Dahlia is drawn into a mystery she must unravel.
Standing by the graveside in my too-small black dress, I listened to the priest while my family glared at each other. They were furious about the inheritance—just one dollar each—but I felt hollow, not angry.
Grandpa had been my confidant, the only one who truly saw me. I’d brought him a red rose, a stark contrast to the white daisies around his coffin.
Aunt Nancy snapped, “One damn dollar! He was loaded!”
Uncle Vic laughed bitterly, while Mom accused me of being his favorite. I stiffened as they pressed for secrets, but I had none to share.
Once they realized there was no fortune, they stormed off, still bickering.
Then, a kind woman approached me, claiming to be a friend of Grandpa’s. She handed me a folded note and whispered, “Don’t let anyone see it.”
It read: “111 locker — Southern Railway Station.” My heart raced. Was this Grandpa’s “treasure” after all?
That night, I tucked the note under my pillow, caught between grief and hope. The next morning, I called a cab, ignoring my family’s drama, and headed to the station.
Inside, I found locker 111. After a moment of panic, the lock clicked open to reveal an old duffel bag stuffed with cash—over $150,000—and another note from Grandpa: “For my beloved granddaughter. Live free, kiddo.”
Tears filled my eyes. This wasn’t just money; it was freedom. Grandpa had known how much I needed to escape this family.
I zipped the bag shut, feeling lighter than ever. On the cab ride back, I realized I could finally leave. When I arrived home, I booked a ticket anywhere and told the driver to take me to the airport.
With the duffel bag in my lap and Grandpa’s note in my pocket, I smiled for the first time in days. I was free, and I knew exactly what that meant.
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