Behind the torn furniture, she found a second box, this one tucked behind a false wall panel. Inside were documents: old certificates, stocks, bank statements in her name. He’d transferred things quietly over the years.
Most were modest; bonds, savings, a modest account in a local bank, but one folder held a deed to a plot of land she’d never heard of, in a town two states over. Next to it was a post-it note: “The lake view was always your favourite.” She sat back on her heels, the dust biting at her throat, the weight of it all settling in.