My heart began pounding furiously.

The box was small enough to hold easily in one hand, and its hinged lid was fastened with a thick wire loop that had worked loose over years of weather.

I pulled the wire free and lifted the rusty lid.

Inside were a folded topographic map, a brass key, and a small photograph.

I recognized the photo instantly, and it brought a lump to my throat.

It showed Brandon standing beside our family car outside the cabin, one arm resting casually on the hood while our three young boys stood in front of him, grinning broadly at the camera.