beside the baseboard.
One section of floor had lifted half an inch.
I crouched.
Hooked my fingers under it.
The floor panel rose.
Beneath was a cavity about eighteen inches deep.
Inside sat a metal box.
Green.
Military style.
Padlocked.
My flashlight beam shook once across the lid.
I forced my hand steady.
There was white paint on top.
C-4.
I stared at the brass key from Grandma’s envelope.
So that was what it opened.
Not a room.
A box.
I lifted the box onto the kitchen table.
It was
