By the week’s end, curiosity triumphed over fear. Maggie slid the key into her handbag, slipped on her coat, and whispered a promise to Daniel’s photograph on the mantel. “If this is your puzzle,” she murmured, “I’ll solve it. Even if I don’t like the answer.”
The following morning, Maggie carried the brass key into town. She stopped at the bank Daniel had always used, her pulse racing as she pushed open the heavy glass door. The lobby felt colder than usual, the kind of place where answers whispered but rarely comforted.