I felt lost as I stood at my grandfather’s funeral, surrounded by angry family members who were upset about his small $1 fortune. But they didn’t know that Grandpa had left me a secret gift.
Their rage and sadness filled the air like a thick fog, but I didn’t feel anything. Grandpa’s death was a terrible loss for me. He was the only one who could really see me.
A soft voice from someone else broke through my sadness. “You must be Dahlia.” She whispered to me as she gave me a folded note, “Don’t let anyone see it, especially your family.” Soon after, she was lost in the crowd.
It said, “Southern Railway Station, locker number 111.” I laughed as I thought of Grandpa’s stories about finding hidden riches. Was that his last joke?
With the note hidden under my pillow that night, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that this wasn’t a joke. What if Grandpa had really left me something?
I sneaked out of the house the next morning and took a cab to the station. With my heart pounding, I went to locker 111 and put the key that was hidden on the note inside.
When the lock was opened, a duffel bag full of at least $150,000 in cash was seen. “I’ve kept everything for you, my dear grandchild,” Grandpa wrote in a note. Get it and leave.”
As I realized that Grandpa’s gift was more than money, tears came down my face. It was freedom. He knew I wanted to get away from the bad family things.
With the bag slung over my shoulder, I left the station, bathed in the golden glow of dawn. I was light and ready to start over.
I booked a ticket to any place in the cab and told the driver to go to the airport. I smiled and held on to Grandpa’s note.
I knew what freedom really meant for the first time. The last thing my grandfather gave me gave me the strength to leave everything behind and start a new life.
Before the plane took off, I said in a quiet voice, “Thank you, Grandpa.” His work would live on, and I promised to make him proud.
