The moment it opened, a wave of stench burst out, making me gag.
I cut deeper.
Then I froze.
Inside wasn’t spoiled food or a dead animal.
It was a tightly sealed plastic bag, already damp and growing mold.
Shaking, I opened it.
Bundles of cash spilled out—thick stacks bound with rubber bands, some stained and damp. Beneath them were envelopes, receipts, contracts, and a small notebook filled with dates, amounts, and company names—records of hidden transactions.
My heart pounded.
What was my husband involved in?
Then I noticed something strange: a small cross marked at the bottom of every page.
I opened another envelope.
Photographs.
Children—thin, wearing worn clothes.
A small building.
On the back: San Pedro Community School – Cebu.
Confusion replaced fear.
Then I found a letter.
It was from Michael.
Anna,
If you’re reading this, you’ve discovered the secret I’ve been keeping.
