Thomas Light stopped in front of the door to his house, allowing himself a moment to collect himself. He'd found himself having to consciously shift his mindset between work and home lately. Work was ordered and there he was a quiet, efficient assistant; quick to pick up extra work and never sharing more than necessary. At home... he wasn't sure what to call this mess. He'd yet to find any stash of money, and his mother's condition worsened by the day. He hardly ever saw Albert or Emily and he could feel them drifting away from him, just when he truly needed their support. But he couldn't let them see what his father's death had done to his family, he could barely live with it himself, much less ask them to. He leaned his head against the door and took a deep breath. What a complete and utter mess the world was.
He was just starting to open the door when he heard footsteps behind him; Emily was coming down the street. He turned back toward her, pulling the door shut behind him, but not forcefully enough for it to latch. By now Emily was upon him and turning back to pull it shut seemed awkward. He hoped she wouldn't get close enough to see into the kitchen, and that his mother wouldn't decide to call out to them.
Naturally she decided to walk all the way up to the door to talk to him.
"Thomas!" she called in greeting, climbing the steps to the door. He turned so she would have her back to where the door was open in order to face him.
"Emily," he said returning the greeting, "how are things with Albert?" He was well aware how... friendly, she and Albert had become after the Stantons had moved in. He'd often seen them sitting together outside under the old tree late in the evening after she'd gotten home. Thanks to the lengthening days of summer it was still light enough for him to see their fingers woven together.
A smile twitched her lips at the mention of Albert. "Fine," she smiled, "Samuel thinks its enormous fun, living with the neighbors."
"I hear he and Marie are quite the troublemakers." he said chuckling.
Emily sighed, "Albert told you about their experiment with the laundry then?"
A week ago Emily had come home to find kitchen flooded and wet laundry all over the basement. Apparently Samuel and Marie had decided to do the washing for Emily. Samuel, being the smart and resourceful boy he was, thought that it was just silly to wash the clothes upstairs, carry the heavy wet laundry to dry in the yard, and haul it back in and down to the basement to be ironed. It made much more sense, he thought, to bring the clothes downstairs before they were wet, and carry water down the steps to wash them. Had his attempt at carrying the water down the steps succeeded, he would have used the clothesline that was in the basement for winter washing to dry the clothes.
"I still don't know how so much water got on the floor. Here, we got your mail by mistake." She held out a hand addressed envelope.
"Ah, thanks-" he began, but she was already on her way down the walk waving as she went. Which left Thomas staring at the door jam she'd been standing in front of.
And the two small cracks running across the grain of the wood.
And the small green triangle poking out of one.
He tucked the letter in his pocket, and pushed against the piece of wood between the two. It gave slightly, he reached inside and pulled a screwdriver out of a kitchen drawer, ignoring his mother's inquiries as he placed the tip of the screwdriver against the lower crack and pushed. The whole piece of wood fell out. Between the drywall of the kitchen and the frame of the door, and resting on a piece of wood someone had stuck in there for that very purpose, was more money than Thomas Light had ever seen in his life.
