“36L,”Isaid as confidently asIcould.Itwas a shot in the dark.Ifhe saidIwas an idiot,I’djust claim to be a summertimer and thatIhad gone to the wrong bank location or something.
ButJackhad double-checked the branch number for the bank that was across from the ferry landing, and he was right.Itmatched the set of numbers from the letter.
The teller’s fingers flew over his computer keys with surprising speed.Hefroze, looked at me, then back at his computer screen.
“Um.Okay.Rightthis way, ma’am.Yousaid that you have the key with you?”
I looked atJackin shock.Noway was it that easy.
“You don't need to see myIDor anything?”Iasked, not thatIhad it.
The teller dabbed his face with a handkerchief. “I’veworked at this bank for nearly fifty years.Thetale of box 36L has been around for a long time.Ialways thought it was a joke.”
“What do you mean?”Jackasked as he put a protective arm around my waist.
“The owner of that box—your aunt—prepaid for it for a hundred years.There’sa note on the account that says, in the event of her passing, whoever shows up with the key can have the contents.It’s. . . unconventional to say the least.ButImet her a few times.Shewasn’t the kind of woman who took no for an answer.”
We followed him through a keycode-protected door.Iwas entirely certain that, at any moment, we were about to be arrested.
The teller led us through rows of safety deposit boxes as he pulled out a bank master key. “Righthere.Mighttake your tall fella to reach it,” he said.
I handedJackthe key.Thetwo of them inserted the master and the box keys at the same time.Theclick that echoed as they turned could have been heard from space.
Jack used both hands to carefully pull the box out of the wall.Theteller removed the master key and showed us to a private room where we could look through the contents.
Jack set the box on the small table inside as the teller closed the door behind us. “Whatdo you think is in here?”
“At this point, my ability to guess what that batty old lady was up to has disappeared.Whoprepays to use a safety deposit box for a hundred years?”
He shrugged. “Youraunt.Youcan do the honors.”
“Please be bricks of gold.Pleasebe bricks of gold,”Iwhispered under my breath asIopened the box.
But it definitely wasn’t bricks of gold.Nodiamonds.Nofat stacks of cash.Nomap to a beach location where pirates had left a priceless treasure.
Ipulled out the heavy stack of loosely bound papers.
“What is it?”Jackasked.
I blinked in disbelief as it registered. “It’sa book.”
34
JACK
AS YOU WISH
“Are you waiting for it to jump up and bite you?”Iasked asIslipped into the house, toed my shoes off, and foundAurorasitting on the couch, staring at the coffee table.Thenew phone she had gotten was lying on top of it. “Insuranceguy is done at the house, by the way.”
“Thanks,”Auroramumbled, clearly distracted by staring at her phone.
It had been a week since we opened the safety deposit box and found a fullAuroraArchermanuscript.Afull week of staring at a stack of printer paper with disappointment.Asmuch as we had tried to make the best of it,IknewAurorawas frustrated it hadn’t been more.
Her bank cards had been replaced with temporary ones.Anew driver’s license had been ordered.Hermom had shipped the spare key to her car so that she could drive whileIwas at work.Therewere only a few clothing and personal items she had to buy since the town had showered her with reinforcements.Theslow and painful insurance process was, thankfully, moving.
But every day she had to look out the window and see the ash.
I approached with caution. “Wannatell me what’s going on?”
