At my grandfather’s funeral, Dahlia, 18 years old, feels isolated while her family is outraged by the pathetic inheritance of a single dollar. But when a stranger slips her a secret note, Dahlia is drawn into a mystery only she can solve.
I stood at the edge of the grave, my hands clenched in the pockets of my too-small black dress, listening to the priest’s monotonous voice blending with the rustling of the wind.
It was the saddest day of my life, but all the other family members seemed more concerned with glaring at each other than mourning Grandpa.
I could feel their bitterness hanging in the cool October air, thick as syrup. A dollar each. That’s all Grandpa left us in his will, and they were furious. But me? I wasn’t angry. Just… empty.”
Let me know if you need anything else!
Grandpa wasn’t supposed to be gone. He was the only person who truly saw me, not the failure, not the extra child that nobody paid attention to, but me. He welcomed me when no one else cared.
I stared at the flowers resting on his coffin. I had brought him a red rose, which stood out among the white daisies that everyone else had laid on the casket.
‘One dollar,’ hissed Aunt Nancy behind me. ‘A damn dollar! That man was rich, and this is what we get?’
Uncle Vic let out a bitter laugh. ‘Isn’t it? I bet he did it on purpose, that old grudge-holder.’
‘Typical of Dad,’ Mom murmured, her arms crossed over her chest. ‘He always had his favorites, and Dahlia here was his little darling. I bet she got something we don’t know about.’
Aunt Nancy’s eyes turned to me, sharp as glass. ‘What did he leave you, Dahlia? Nothing? Don’t pretend you didn’t get anything.’
I stiffened. ‘I got the same thing as all of you.’
Mom’s fingers tightened on my shoulder. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘You were always with him. Maybe he told you something… think hard, Dahlia. You owe it to your family to share what he gave you.’
Memories flooded back: Grandpa’s wild stories about a lost treasure and the caramel candies he always kept in his coat pocket.
Sometimes, he would wink at me and say, ‘One day, my dear, I’ll leave you a treasure. A real treasure!’ But it was just a game, a joke between us.
I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the coffin. ‘What Grandpa gave me was his love, his stories, and a place that felt more like home than my real home. Those things were worth far more than money, and I can’t—'”
If you need anything else, just let me know!
‘No one cares about all that!’ Mom retorted, exasperated. ‘Think, my daughter! What happened to all his money?’
I shrugged. I really didn’t know how to answer her question, and I didn’t care. Grandpa was gone. He was my confidant, my refuge, my friend. I had lost the most important person in the world, but all they cared about was putting a price on his death.
‘She knows something,’ Vic murmured, loud enough for me to hear.
Their voices intertwined, accusatory, plotting— as if they could extract secrets from me if they tried hard enough. But I had no secret that would bring them more money.
As soon as they realized there would be no fortune, they turned away from the grave and stormed off. I could still hear them arguing as they walked away, striking at each other like vultures. It made me sick.
‘You must be Dahlia.’
I looked up to see a woman in her sixties, with kind eyes and an old leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her smile was sweet and mysterious, as if she knew something we all didn’t.
‘I was friends with your grandfather,’ she said, leaning toward me as if we were accomplices. ‘He asked me to give you this.’
Before I could respond, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand and whispered, ‘Don’t let anyone see it, especially your family.’
Her presence felt surreal, almost dreamlike, and before I could say anything, she had vanished, swallowed by the crowd of mourners. My heart raced as I unfolded the note.
Locker 111 — Gare du Sud.
For a moment, I stood frozen, the words blurring before my eyes. Then it hit me: Grandpa’s ‘treasure.’ A laugh burst from my throat, inappropriate and uncontrollable, but I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t joking after all.
That night, lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling. The note was tucked under my pillow like a secret. Grandpa’s voice echoed in my head, teasing yet certain: ‘Locker number 111… There’s a treasure in there, my dear!’
A weight settled on my chest, somewhere between grief and hope. What if it wasn’t just a wild goose chase? What if Grandpa really left me something, hidden where no one else could reach it?
That thought swirled in my mind until I could hardly bear it. I needed to know what was in that locker.
The next morning, I ordered a taxi as soon as I woke up. As I quietly passed the kitchen, I heard Mom murmuring on the phone about Grandpa’s will, probably trying to squeeze sympathy or money from anyone who would listen.
I gritted my teeth and stepped outside, the morning air hitting my skin like a slap.
The ride to Gare du Sud felt like the longest twenty minutes of my life.
My knee trembled with nervous energy as the taxi wove through narrow alleys, passing by graffiti-covered walls and empty cafés that were just beginning to open. The driver glanced in the rearview mirror but said nothing.
When we finally arrived at the station, I asked him to wait and got out. I held the note tightly as I entered the station.
The place smelled of diesel and stale popcorn. People rushed in all directions—commuters, travelers, strangers with specific destinations.
I hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling small and out of place. But Grandpa’s voice echoed in my head, firm and reassuring: ‘A real treasure, my dear.’
I took a deep breath and headed toward the lockers, my heart pounding in my ears. Rows of metal boxes lined the wall, each seeming identical: gray, dented, and slightly rusty.”
If you need more help, just let me know!
My eyes swept over the numbers until I found 111.
I pulled the folded note from my pocket. The key was stuck to the back. With trembling hands, I removed it and slid it into the lock.
For a moment, it stuck, and I panicked. But then—click! The lock turned, and the door opened.
Inside was a gym bag. It was old, faded, and heavy. My hands shook as I pulled it out and unzipped it.
The bag was filled with cash. Bundles and bundles of bills!
I stifled a scream, my mind spinning. This couldn’t be real, could it? I reached in and pulled out a stack, flipping through the hundred-dollar bills. There had to be at least $150,000 in there.
And at the bottom of the bag was another note, written in Grandpa’s messy scrawl:
For my dear granddaughter, everything I’ve saved is now yours. Take it and live free, my dear. The rest of the family may not see your worth, but I have always believed in you.
Tears blurred my vision, and I pressed the note against my chest, a lump forming in my throat. It wasn’t just money; it was freedom. An escape.
Grandpa had always known how much I needed to get away from this family. And now, he had given me exactly what I needed while fooling everyone in the process!
I closed the bag, slung it over my shoulder, and exited the station, my heart pounding in time with my footsteps.
The morning sun was beginning to break through the clouds, casting everything in a soft golden light. For the first time in years, I felt… light.
During the taxi ride back, I stared out the window, watching the city awaken. I had options now. No more suffocating family dinners, no more indifference or ignorance, no more being the family scapegoat.
I could leave. I could build something new.
That thought frightened me as much as it excited me, but Grandpa’s voice echoed in my head: ‘Live free, my dear.’
When the taxi stopped in front of my house, I made my decision. I wouldn’t stay. Not a minute longer!”
If there’s anything else you need, feel free to ask!
I didn’t even bother going inside. I pulled out my phone, booked a ticket to anywhere, and told the driver to take me straight to the airport.
With the gym bag on my lap and Grandpa’s note safely tucked in my pocket, I smiled for the first time in days.
I was free. And for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what that meant.
