I walked down the narrow gravel alley behind my house.

The wooden side door of the garage creaked on its rusty hinges, but the house fifty feet away stayed dark.

I pulled back the greasy rag tucked behind the workbench.

With my bare fingers, I pried up the loose flagstone by the back frame.

My knuckles scraped through cold dirt.

The heavy copper box under the stone came up damp and caked with yellow clay.

Inside were the brass keys Daniel had hidden the fall before he disappeared.