The drum wouldn’t spin.
I cursed under my breath, assuming I’d been scammed. When I opened the door to check inside, I saw something wedged against the drum—a small cardboard box.
Confused, I pulled it out. Taped to the top was a folded note written in delicate cursive:
“For you and your children. —M”
At first, I thought it was a lost item. Maybe something the shop had overlooked. But then curiosity got the better of me.
Inside the box were two silver house keys on a red keyring—and a printed address.
I sat there on the laundry room floor, staring at them. The twins toddled in, curious.
“Daddy, what’s that?” Bella asked.
“I… I don’t know yet,” I whispered.
That night, I barely slept. My brain wouldn’t shut off. Who was “M”? Was the note really meant for me? Or had someone left it for another family long ago?
