A siren woke me at dawn. Blue and red lights streaked through the blinds, painting my bedroom walls in panic. For one wild second, I thought maybe Lee had come back to cause trouble, or maybe the bank was already here to take the house.
When I pulled on the first cardigan I could find and stepped outside, the street was a circus.
Two patrol cars, a sheriff’s SUV, neighbors clustered on the lawns, faces pinched with curiosity. My heart hammered. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and stepped onto the porch, trying to look braver than I felt.
The street was a circus.
A tall man in uniform approached, broad-shouldered, serious, the sort of person who makes you want to stand straighter.
“Are you Ariel?” The sheriff’s voice was clipped, but not unfriendly. His eyes flicked to the cluster of neighbors. “I’m Sheriff Holt. Can we step inside for a moment?”
I opened the door, my heart hammering. The living room suddenly felt small. The radio on his shoulder crackled as his gaze moved over the family photos and the stack of unopened mail.
“Is everything okay?” I managed.
He lowered his voice. “I wish it was. Mrs. Higgins collapsed on her porch early this morning. A neighbor saw her and called it in. Paramedics got there first, but…” He trailed off.
“Can we step inside for a moment?”
“She didn’t make it,” I whispered, sinking onto the sofa.
Holt nodded gently. “I’m sorry. I know you helped her yesterday, a neighbor told us. And we checked her porch camera to confirm her last movements. We saw her place something in your mailbox right before she sat down for the last time.”
I stared at him. “She… put something in my mailbox? What?”
He nodded.
“She left instructions, very clear ones. You’re to open it. And I’ll be here as a witness. Sometimes, people want to be sure their last wishes go the right way.”
I gripped the couch, mind spinning. “What could she possibly have left for me?”
Holt offered a small, sad smile. “Let’s find out together.”
“I know you helped her yesterday.”
***
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