Telha
Hours had passed, and James hadn’t helped. I sighed, setting aside yet another toaster. “This feels never-ending.”
Then, something unusual caught my eye
A small black box with gold trim, nestled among the other gifts. I frowned. “Should I open this? Could it be something personal for James?”
Curiosity got the best of me. “Forget it,” I whispered, carefully unwrapping it. Inside was a soft velvet pouch.
“Jewelry?” I guessed with a smile.
“A key?” I examined it, puzzled. “What…?” Searching the pouch for a note, I felt a small stitched message.
I squinted to read the golden thread: “You can’t hide the truth no matter how hard you try, James.” My heart raced, and my chest tightened.
“What truth?” I muttered, my voice shaking. I read it again, “You can’t hide the truth… James.”
“What does that mean?” I almost shouted, my mind whirling. Who sent this? What truth was about to unravel?
The questions gnawed at me until James finally came home, smiling, unaware of the turmoil brewing within me. I didn’t even wait for him to take off his shoes.
“What does this mean?” I demanded, holding up the key and pouch, my voice sharper than I’d intended.
His smile faded as his eyes locked onto the key. In that instant, I watched his face go pale.
His hands trembled, and the grocery bags he held fell to the floor with a hollow thud.
“James?” I moved closer, my heart pounding. “It’s just a key… right?”
He didn’t respond, standing frozen as though his world had crumbled. His breaths were shallow and rapid. I had never seen him like this before.
“James, you’re scaring me,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Talk to me.”
Silence still
His gaze remained fixed on the key, as if it were cursed. I guided him to the couch; he seemed limp, like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Please, James. What is this? What’s going on?” My voice cracked.
After what felt like an eternity, he took a deep breath. “In my last year of university,” he began, his voice a whisper, “I was short on money for tuition. I was desperate… out of options.”
My heart sank. “Desperate for what?” I thought, anxiety creeping in.
“My friends and me…” he paused, shame clouding his face. “We made a horrible decision.”
I gripped his hand tighter. “What did you do?”
“There was an elderly woman, wealthy. My friend’s sister worked for her as a caregiver.” His words came out clipped, like it hurt to speak.
“We knew she owned valuable things… one night, we decided to rob her.”
I gasped. “Rob her? James, what…?”
Then we found this small, ornate box.” His eyes shifted to the key in my hand. “That key… it’s from the box.
We thought it contained treasures, something valuable.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “But when we opened it later, it was just… old family photos. Just memories.”
A chill swept over me. “What happened next?” I asked, bracing myself.
I stared at him, disbelief clouding my thoughts
The man I married—the man I trusted—had done this? I felt sick, like the ground was slipping away beneath me.
“And now…” James whispered, his hands trembling again, “now this key shows up. I don’t know what it means, but… what if they know? What if someone found out?”
The silence was thick, suffocating
I struggled to find words. This wasn’t the James I thought I knew. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I finally spoke.
“James,” I said, my voice calm despite the turmoil inside. “You made a terrible mistake. But this key… maybe it’s a reminder or a sign that you can’t outrun your past. We need to find out who sent it and why now.”
He rubbed his temples, regret etched on his face. “I don’t know, Martha… I’ve tried to forget for years. I didn’t think anyone knew.”
“How much did you steal?” I asked, bracing myself.
James sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. “Around $30,000.” The number hit me hard, but I stayed composed.
“Then here’s what we’ll do,” I said firmly. “We’ll go to her house, confess everything, and offer her three times that amount.”
James looked at me in shock. “Three times? We don’t have that much right now.”
It’s the right thing.” I softened. “I’ll go with you. You’re not facing this alone.”
By morning, the weight of our decision hung heavy as we arrived at the elderly woman’s house. When we knocked, a young woman opened the door, her expression unreadable.
“You must be here for Elizabeth,” she said coolly, letting us in.
We followed her down a narrow hallway, my heart pounding. In the bedroom, there she was—the old woman, smiling at us. “I’m Elizabeth,” she said warmly. “I’ve been expecting you.”
James froze, his mouth half-open, speechless. He hadn’t anticipated this. Neither had I.
Elizabeth didn’t seem angry—she seemed… amused. James finally found his voice.
“We’re here to make things right,” he said, voice shaking. “I did something awful, and I want to repay you for what I took. I… I can offer $100,000, on the condition you don’t press charges.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with something I couldn’t place. “But you took more than just valuables, James,” she said softly. “And you know it.”
James went pale, swallowing hard. “The photos…” she continued, her voice steady and cold. “From the box. Where are they?”
James winced, looking down. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he whispered, “we… we burned them.”
The silence that followed was thick. I braced for her anger, but instead, Elizabeth laughed—a low, unsettling chuckle that chilled me. Her granddaughter joined in, laughing lightly, as if it were a joke.
“Alright,” Elizabeth said, still smiling. “The $100,000 will do.”
She gestured to her granddaughter. “Give the check and documents to her. Also, you’ll sign a paper promising never to disclose this agreement or mention your accomplices.”
James nodded, relieved. “Of course, I… I’ll sign whatever you need.”
As we turned to leave, something caught my eye. Three identical boxes sat neatly on a table by the hallway mirror. My stomach dropped.
Outside, I casually asked, “James… were there four of you in the robbery?”
He looked at me, surprised. “Yes. But… how did you know?”
I chuckled softly. “Because she’s no ordinary old lady. She outsmarted all of you.”
James stared at me, confused but relieved the ordeal was over.
As I glanced back at the house, I couldn’t help but admire the clever, cunning Elizabeth. She had already gained three times what was stolen—and soon, she’d triple it again.
“Trust me,” I whispered as we walked away. “You weren’t her first… and you definitely won’t be her last.”
