I open my mouth.
Close it.
Then try again.
“I think my grandmother left clues,” I say.
Wyatt straightens like someone just rang an alarm bell inside him. “Clues to what?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “That’s the problem.”
Marshall doesn’t say anything yet. He just watches me.
I set the journals down on the nearest table, pages fanning out, and pick one up with hands that are shaking more than I want them to.
“She wrote things in the margins,” I explain. “Not… instructions. Not exactly. More like hints. Like, ‘Where the workers rest, the queen keeps her truth.’”
Jesse blinks. “That sounds like either a riddle or something my kid would write for extra credit.”
Wyatt frowns thoughtfully.
Marshall’s mouth twitches. “Sounds like someone who didn’t want to be obvious.”
I nod, heart pounding. “There’s more.” I flip to another page. “‘Sweet things survive fire best when sealed.’”
Jesse’s smile fades.
Wyatt’s expression sharpens. “Fire?”
“My mom mentioned sealing things,” I add quickly, grabbing one of the letters. “She said Grandma sealed everything. Honey. Wax. Recipes. Even grief.”
Wyatt takes that in, eyes moving between the papers, already mapping possibilities.
Marshall exhales slowly. “So this might not be about jewels?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t think it ever was.”
Jesse rubs the back of his neck. “Okay. So if it’s not jewels, what are we talking about? Money?”
“I don’t know yet,” I say, frustration creeping in despite myself. “That’s why I’m stuck. I can see pieces, but I don’t know how they fit.”
Wyatt leans closer, careful not to touch anything. “You’re doing the right thing by stopping here. This reads like someone thinking in systems, not sentences.”
Marshall nods once. “You need outside eyes.”
Jesse grins faintly. “Preferably ones who aren’t emotionally attached to the world’s most cryptic grandma.”
I huff a weak laugh. “Exactly.”
I look at all three of them, nerves fluttering hard in my chest.
“I need help,” I say honestly. “I think this means something. I just don’t know how to unravel it without… missing the obvious.”
Wyatt’s answer is immediate. “I’m in.”
Jesse doesn’t hesitate either. “Same. I love a good mystery. Especially the kind that doesn’t involve murder.”
Marshall meets my gaze last.
