As the rental car rolled to a stop on the dark road, her fear increased by the moment. She hadn’t been back to this town in over ten years, and honestly she didn’t want to be here now. But when your aunt passes away and leaves you her house, you don’t exactly get to refuse. The house looked exactly how she remembered it. Small. Slightly crooked. The porch light flickering like it always had. She stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. The air smelled like pine trees and old memories. Inside, everything was dusty but neat. Her aunt had always been organized. There was a folder sitting on the kitchen table with her name written on it. She opened it and found a letter. It talked about forgiveness. About second chances. About how people don’t always say what they mean, especially when they’re hurt. She sat down and read it twice. Her aunt had known about the argument. The one she’d had with her brother before leaving town. The one they never resolved. There was also a small key taped inside the envelope. She walked upstairs to the old bedroom she used to share with him. In the closet was a small locked box. Inside it were photos. All of them were of the two of them growing up. Laughing. Fishing. Building forts. She didn’t realize she was crying until she wiped her face. The door behind her creaked open. Her brother stood there, looking just as unsure. “You got the letter too?” he asked. She nodded. They stood there for a long moment. Neither of them really knew how to start. He looked around the room, then back at her. And that was the moment he finally understood what it had cost him.