My grandpa raised me alone after I lost my parents. When he passed away last week, I found a letter hidden under his toolbox that read: “Dig beneath the weeping willow in the backyard. There’s a private matter I’ve been hiding from you for 22 years.” What I unearthed was only the beginning of something much bigger.I’m 22, and for as long as I can remember, it was just Grandpa Earl and me in that old farmhouse outside Cedar Hollow. Creaky floorsRadio humming in the kitchen every morning. The smell of coffee that never quite left the walls.
We weren’t rich, but it was our home.
