My Grandmother Left Her House to the Neighbor and Gave Me Only Her Old Sewing Machine – Then I Found a Key and a Note Taped to It

**

An address was written beneath. I stared at the key in my palm.

“You really couldn’t just tell me?” I muttered. “You had to make it a treasure hunt, Gran?”

I stood, grabbed my purse, and locked the house behind me.

If she wanted me to go somewhere, I was going.

**

I stared at the key in my palm.

The address led me to the edge of the next town. The small white house had chipped paint and a sagging porch. A wind chime tapped against itself in the breeze.

I stayed in the car for a full minute.

“Clear heart,” I reminded myself. “Not anger.”

I sighed, thinking of my grandmother. What was really going on here?

“Fine,” I said out loud. “But you owe me answers.”

The key turned like it had been waiting for me.

**

What was really going on here?

Inside, a lamp glowed near the sofa. The air smelled faintly of lavender and something medicinal.

“Hello?” I called.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

A woman stepped into view. Silver hair pulled back. She had sharp eyes that did not look surprised.

“You must be Rose’s granddaughter,” she said.

“Yes, Taylor,” I replied. “And you are?”

“I’m Helen, doll. Rose told me you’d come. I helped her in the last months.”

“Helped her how?” I asked immediately.

“I was her caregiver. Part-time, and only during the day. But I also helped with paperwork. And with making sure no one pushed her into decisions she didn’t want to make.”

“I’m Helen.”

My jaw tightened. “Are you saying that someone tried, Helen?”

Helen held my gaze.