A woman answered the door holding a toddler.
I gave the strangest speech of my life.
I said, “This will sound impossible, but my wife thinks this man used to live here, and he may have hidden something in your garage years ago.”
She didn’t let us in.
The woman looked at us for a long second.
She kept us on the porch, called her husband, and asked to see our IDs.
What changed her mind was Megan saying, “There’s a loose panel behind the old pegboard on the back wall. He hid Christmas presents there because he thought I never noticed.”
The woman looked at us for a long second. Then she let us into the garage.
The back wall was crowded with shelves, paint cans, broken chairs, and an old freezer. The panel had been painted so many times it nearly disappeared.
Walter held the key with both hands, close to his chest.
Megan pressed one corner.
It shifted.
Behind it sat a small metal lockbox.
Walter held the key with both hands, close to his chest.
I said, “Go ahead.”
He put it in. Turned it.
Megan picked up one of the drawings with both hands.
The lock clicked.
Inside were photographs, drawings, report cards, a plastic bracelet, and a folded letter.
