POWER OF MONEY

MARIANNE

For some reason, Troy's action, stirred something in me. It was a fleeting warmth, one I quickly suppressed. I had no time for such feelings. Once inside the bank, I was led to the vault—a cold, sterile space filled with rows of metal safe deposit boxes.

I stared at the key in my hand, running my fingers over the engraved numbers before matching it to its box. The metallic sound of the lock turning echoed in the stillness.

I opened it, revealing the documents I needed. I carefully retrieved the papers and a flash drive, taking a moment to register the weight of what I was holding. This was my legacy—my father’s legacy—secured away from the hands of those who had betrayed me.

Without delay, I left the bank and drove to the courier company. My godfather’s parcel had arrived, and I was desperate to get it. But as fate would have it, the company had already closed for the day. The frustration clawed at me, yet there was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to head home,