They climbed the tower at sunset, each step echoing softly. On the second landing they found the loose slate. Beneath it rested a small tin box tied with faded ribbon. As the bells began to ring, the air felt charged with memory.
Inside the box lay a bank envelope, an old camcorder tape, and a brass tag stamped 312. A handwritten note read, “For the day you finally see what we kept safe.” The number matched a safety-deposit box at a nearby bank. Their hands trembled, but they knew they had to open it.