Kael woke up to the sound of a garbage truck.
Kael pulled the sheet off him. It was soaked with his sweat. The air conditioner in his room must have malfunctioned for some reason.
He was so tired that he fell asleep. It was a deep sleep. It felt like he had opened and closed his eyes.
He sat up, rubbing his face. The envelope and the key were on the nightstand.
Kael remembered the events of the night. His grandfather had said that he trusted him and would give him his most precious thing. But it was still unbelievable to Kael. Because as far as he knew, his grandfather Theodore Lancaster had never trusted anyone. Not even those close to him who had spent decades with him. On the other hand, he had only known Kael for about two years.
Kael took the key. He didn't have so much money—he did have a debit card with $237.12 in it, and a determination—a determination that wouldn't let him back down. He decided to go to the address his grandfather had given him. He still doubted whether Theodore had actually left him anything valuable, but at this point, he had nothing to lose. He was hopeless about his future. He still couldn't pay his debts, and he didn't have a job that would make him any money. So this was his last hope. He was just praying that he would get something valuable from the address his grandfather had given him with which he could secure his future.
Kael packed his things and got ready to leave. He left the hotel and went to the bus stand. Because there was no train to the place he was heading toward. In fact, there wasn't even a railway line that ran in that direction.
Kael lifted his duffel bag over his shoulder, clutching the key in his pocket with his other hand—as if it would melt if he let go. The address on the paper was leading him to an unfamiliar town—Blackwater Hollow.
The sleepy clerk at the ticket counter spoke.
"One way?" the clerk asked, already typing in the number.
Kael nodded. He wasn't coming back. Either this lead panned out, or he'd be sleeping in a ditch.
"Forty-seven dollars and fifty cents."
He winced but swiped his debit card. The machine beeped, the clerk handed him a flimsy paper ticket, and just like that, his balance dropped to $189.62.
The bus was very old. It was the opposite of the buses he usually saw in the city. It was covered in dust and rust, the windows covered with the grime of ages. The driver—a grizzled man with a coffee stain on his shirt—barely glanced at Kael's ticket before jerking his thumb toward the back.
"Find a seat and stay in it."
Kael sat down in a seat. He put his bag at his feet and leaned his head against the window, slowly leaving the city behind him as the bus began to roll.
Skyscrapers gave way to suburbs, then to long stretches of empty highway flanked by skeletal trees and the occasional gas station. Kael dozed in fits, jerking awake every time the bus hit a pothole.
By the time the bus wheezed to a stop in Blackwater Hollow, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges. It had been a long journey. Kael had never crossed such a large stretch of land before.
The town was like a ghostly memory—a single main street, abandoned stores on the side, and a diner with a flickering neon sign that read "EAT" in half-lit desperation.
Kael got off the bus.
The driver didn't say goodbye. Just pulled the door shut and rumbled away, leaving Kael standing alone on the cracked pavement.
He looked at the address again.
17 Mill Road.
A local leaning against a pickup truck eyed him, then spat into the dirt. "Are you lost, city boy?"
Kael ignored the jab. "Mill Road. Where is it?"
The man smiled and pointed to a dirt road through the trees. "Walk down that one. Go left by the canal. The old Lancaster house is over there. Who are you, anyway?"
Old Lancaster House. So this was where his grandfather had come from. Kael had never even heard of it. He knew his grandfather grew up in some rural town, but he never imagined it would be this... dead. But he didn't understand why his grandfather had asked him to come here. Did he mean his ancestral home, which he called his most precious possession?
Hmm... This place is far away. I don't think the property value here would be that high. But if that old man left his property here in my name, why didn't he mention it in his will? Damn it, old man… still making my life harder even from the grave.
The man said again, "Boy, are you a Lancaster?"
Kael just nodded and said, "Yes, I am the grandson of Theodore Lancaster."
He didn't stick around for more questions. He started walking. The man looked like he had more to say, but Kael didn't care. He didn't have time for small talk.
After nearly 30 minutes of walking, a house came into view.
Damn, it's far away. It seems that the old man is enjoying my misery even after he is dead.
Kael finally reached his destination.
It wasn't a mansion—more like a worn two-story farmhouse, beaten down by time and weather. The Lancaster family hadn't set foot here in decades. The place was sagging with age.
Kael's throat went dry.
This was the place.
He took out the brass key—but he didn't expect to need it. The gate had long since decayed, hanging off its hinges. He stepped over the remains and walked up to the door.
There was a lock—rusted, old. He doubted the key would even work.
After searching around, he found an iron rod and began smashing the lock. After a few solid hits, it snapped.
The door creaked open.
It was pitch dark inside. Kael turned on his phone's flashlight and stepped in.
The air inside smelled of dust and old paper. He saw stacks of boxes, shelves lined with ledgers, and—
A safe.
Big, black, and bolted to the floor in the corner.
Kael's breath caught.
Was this it? The "most precious" thing his grandfather owned?
He crossed the room in three strides, crouching in front of the safe. No combination lock. Just another keyhole.
He took out the brass key.
It fit.
That surprised him. It wasn't even rusted. He turned it with effort, the old mechanism groaning before the door creaked open.
There was only one folder inside.
Kael stared at it.
He reached in, wiped off the dust, and opened it.