It was the only way any of them were going to know peace.
Jules’s voice wafted over to where she stood, rummaging through the containers for the box of sliced cheese. She added a small cube of butter to the pan and waited for it to melt. After it did, Emma took out a few slices of cheese, placed them between the slices of bread, and waited.
When the two of them sat down to eat, the TV droned on in the background.
A short while later, Jules gave Emma a quick hug and kiss before disappearing up the stairs. After washing and putting away the dishes, Emma found herself standing in front of the back door, glancing out at the moonlit porch. A heartbeat later, her pulse quickened as she crept down the dim, carpeted hallway to her father’s study.
Outside, she stopped with her hand on the knob and tried to talk herself out of it.
She had already tried to open the box with a number of combinations, none of which were working.
There had to be something she was missing, and she had a feeling it was going to be in her father’s study.
It was the only thing that made sense.
With a slight shake of her head, Emma twisted the knob and stepped in, the smell of old books and leather hitting her first. Emma tiptoed around the study for a while, picking up and setting down several objects as she did. Her heart was hammering unsteadily as she went back to the false drawer at the bottom of the desk and held her breath.
Another letter fluttered out, and Emma caught it before it hit the ground.
She cast a quick glance around the room, tucked it into her jacket, and raced away. Emma took the stairs two at a time and stopped on the first-floor landing. Jules’s soft voice drifted over to where she stood; then, it went quiet again. Her fingers were trembling with impatience as she pulled down the ladder and climbed upstairs to the attic. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling and gave the room a warm and eerie glow.
Emma ducked behind the boxes and exhaled when she saw her grandfather’s chest right where she’d hidden it, underneath a thin sheet. After pulling the sheet onto the floor, Emmasat down and tucked her legs under her. While she tried one combination after the next, angrily tugging on the lock as she did, she pictured her father’s gaunt face.
Then, she saw her mother’s blank expression as she looked back at her.
Was she really doing this for them?
What if finding the Sullivan treasure didn’t bring them closer together?
What if it only made things worse?
A part of her knew she should wait for Marley’s friend to help her authenticate the letter—they were the experts, after all—but the other part of her couldn’t wait any longer.
The truth hovered just out of reach, taunting her.
Emma’s back began to ache as she sat there, skimming over one of the letters for the umpteenth time. On her tenth read, she lurched forward and had to wipe her hands on the front of her jeans. Then, she held the newly retrieved letter up to the window and put in a new sequence of numbers. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, Emma gave it a firm tug, and the lock fell open with a click.
Her eyes widened as she peered into the chest and saw a map.
On shaky legs, she pushed herself to her feet and held it up to the light.
It was a map of Rockport with vague instructions on how to get to a tombstone on High Street across the way from the Rockport House.
Emma fished the phone from her pocket and held it to her face.
Marley picked up on the third ring, sounding out of breath. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?”
“I’m fine,” Emma croaked before pausing to clear her throat. “I unlocked the chest. It has a map inside of it.”
“A map? A map of what?”
“Rockport. I think we might find the treasure, after all, and it looks like my grandpawasthe one to hide it.”
Marley stifled a yawn. “Why would he hide the treasure in Rockport itself? Why not hide it in the house?”
Emma turned the map over and over. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought no one would find it if the house was sold or something. I think the treasure has something to do with his time during the war.”
“What do you mean?”
