“This place smells like overcooked regret,” Leo muttered, stepping over a half-burned couch leg, nudging aside bits of debris with his shoe.
“Less talking, more digging,” Patricia ordered, pulling on gloves. Her face was set with determination, her sharp eyes scanning the wreckage. “We’re finding out what was in those letters.”
Leo, on the other hand, was more of a wing-it-and-hope-for-the-best kind of guy. But for once, he was just as eager as she was to uncover the mystery.
They worked in silence, shifting through soot, ashes, and broken glass. Minutes turned into an hour.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the blackened ruins.
Leo wiped sweat from his forehead, ready to call it quits, when something hard and metallic caught his eye.
“Wait a second.” He reached down, pulling up a small fireproof lockbox, miraculously intact beneath the wreckage. He grinned, holding it up like a prize. “Found something!”
Patricia rushed to his side. “Open it.”
Leo pried it open with some effort. Inside were dozens of letters, neatly stacked, the edges slightly singed but still readable. Patricia pulled one out, her fingers trembling as she unfolded the paper and read the first line.
Her face drained of color.
