The sound of footsteps stopped right at the entrance of the cave. My heart, already pounding, seemed to stop completely. A man’s shadow was silhouetted against the grayish morning light, stretching out on the dirt floor until it touched my dirty hands.
“You shouldn’t have come back, A.K Elena,” said a voice I hadn’t heard in eleven years, but would recognize in any hell.
It was my brother, Julián. But not the skinny boy I remembered; he was a man in designer clothes, a golden watch and a look charged with a coldness that scared me more than any cell.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked, covering the box with my body.
“Mom called me.” She said that “the shame of the family” had appeared on the door of the old house. She knew you had nowhere to go. And she knew that, sooner or later, you would remember Grandpa’s stories about this cave.
Julian took a step inside. His expensive shoes creaked on the dry branches.
“Give me the box, Elena. That “treasure” doesn’t belong to you. You’ve already cost us too much.
“Cost them?” I stood up, feeling a rage that burned more than the cold. “I paid for the crime you committed, Julián. I kept quiet so that you wouldn’t rot in jail. And in exchange, you sold my house and wiped me off the map.
“It was a fair deal,” he spat. “You were always the strong one. Now, give me the box.” Grandpa Thomas wasn’t crazy; he knew that these lands were worth millions for the minerals, and he hid the original land titles before the government tried to expropriate them.
In a fit of desperation, I tugged at the rusty clasp on the box. There were no gold coins or jewelry. Only wax-protected yellowing paper skirts, an antique notarial seal, and a small iron key.
