Six Folders Inside Dad’s Steel Safe Revealed What My Brother Took From Us

I reached up to my collar, unhooked the thin steel chain from around my neck, and slid the brass key off the link.

The key felt solid, heavy, and cool in the palm of my hand.

I stood up, pushed the heavy steel safe door closed, and turned the dial until the bolt clicked shut.

I walked over to Dad’s oak desk in the center of the room.

Sitting near the brass desk lamp was a small cedar box with carved edges that Dad had built in his workshop thirty years ago.

I lifted the hinged cedar lid.