Inside the bundle, I found a small, tarnished key and a folded piece of paper. The paper was fragile, threatening to crumble at the slightest touch. With bated breath, I carefully unfolded it, revealing a handwritten note that made my heart race.
The note was in my husband’s handwriting, unmistakably his, with the familiar loops and slants that I had seen countless times before. The words were brief but clear, a message from beyond the grave that would change everything:
“If anything ever happens to me, use this key. Trust no one.”
