Chapter 6 - The Unbroken Lock
When we pulled into the driveway of the family house on Elm Street, two locksmith trucks were parked out front.
Mr. Henderson was standing on our front porch, holding a warm thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of freshly baked cinnamon rolls his wife had made for us.
"Welcome back, Evelyn," Mr. Henderson said warmly, handing the thermos to Grandma. "The locks on the front door, back patio, garage, and basement have all been changed to high-security electronic deadbolts. Here are your new master keycards."
"Thank you, Arthur," Grandma said, her voice filled with deep, quiet emotion. "I don't know how we would have made it through these three days without good neighbors."
"That's what neighbors are for," Mr. Henderson smiled, leaning down to pat my head softly. "How's the eye feeling, brave little girl?"
"It doesn't hurt anymore," I said proudly, holding up my bandaged teddy bear. "And my bear got his checkup at the clinic too!"
We walked inside the house. The pine scent of the Christmas tree was still floating in the air, but the feeling of fear that had hung over every room for months was completely gone.
Sitting on the dining room table was the carved cedar chest that the Virginia State Patrol had recovered from Brenda’s car.
I ran across the room, my small shoes tapping happily against the hardwood floor. I reached out and touched the smooth, polished wood of the chest. The gold latch was shining under the chandelier light.
"Go ahead and open it, sweetheart," Grandma said, standing beside me with a warm blanket over her arm.
I lifted the heavy brass latch.
Inside lay my father’s folded American flag from his military service, his silver dog tags, three service medals wrapped in velvet, and a stack of blue envelopes tied with a red ribbon—letters he had written to me for every birthday from my fifth to my eighteenth.
Right on top of the letters sat a small, round photo frame containing a picture of my father, my grandmother, and me standing on the front porch during my fifth birthday party, all of us laughing under the bright summer sun.
I lifted the dog tags, their cold metal smooth against my palm, and held them up to the light.
May you like
"He promised he'd always protect us," I whispered softly.
"And he did, Lily," Grandma said, tears shining in her eyes as she pulled me close against her side. "He gave you the courage to ring that silver bell."
