Page 130 of Out on a Limb
The door opened and I nearly peed my pants.
“Okay, Ms. Johnson.” The woman gave me a bright smile as she walked to one of the boxes. She shoved a key into one of the holes and turned my way.
I managed to propel myself to her side as adrenaline continued to dump into my veins.
I’d done it.
I was about to see what was in the box Alan and my granddad wanted so badly.
I poked my key at the hole.
And missed.
Panic made me laugh. It also made that laugh sound unhinged as hell.
“Must have had too much coffee this morning.” I tried again, fighting to keep my hand steady as I slowly moved the key into place.
The woman turned hers as I turned mine.
The door immediately came open.
“There you go.” She backed away, pointing to a bell at the center of the table where I’d signed the name that wasn’t mine. “Ring that when you’re finished and I’ll come back to lock it up.”
Then she was gone.
I turned to the drawer hidden behind the door. It was red-painted metal, with a heavy, hinged handle.
I took a deep breath and gripped the handle.
There could be nothing in here.
It might be empty.
It might be filled with old loan papers and expired checks.
I dragged the drawer free and carried it to the table with the bell. After another deep breath I lifted the lid.
Inside was a single envelope, discolored from age, but in otherwise perfect condition.
I lifted it out and turned it over.
My hand went to my mouth and my throat immediately got tight.
A single word was written across the front.
No. Not a word.
A name.
Myname.
In my grandmother’s handwriting.
I hugged it to my chest, squeezing my eyes closed against the emotion threatening to derail me.
My hands shook as I worked the flap out from where it was tucked into place. Once it was open, I pulled out the folded papers inside.
I scanned them, blinking a few times to be sure I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing.
