Page 28 of The Pakhan's Dangerous Secret
We search the room methodically, checking every inch of the walls and floor. Matvey moves one of the crates, and behind it, I see something. A section of the wall that looks different from the rest. Newer, maybe, or just disturbed more recently.
"Here," I say, pointing.
Andrey comes over, and together we start pulling at the loose dirt. It comes away easily, revealing a hollow space behind it. And inside that space is a metal lockbox.
My heart stops.
I know that box. I've seen it before, years ago, in my father's study. He used to keep important documents in it, things he didn't want anyone else to see.
Andrey pulls it out carefully, setting it on the ground between us. It's covered in dirt and rust, but it's intact, locked tight.
"Do you know what's inside?" he asks, looking at me.
I shake my head, unable to speak. Because even though I don't know what's in the box, I recognize it.
It belonged to my father.
14
ANDREY
Iwatch Mariya's face as she stares at the metal lockbox, and I see it. Recognition. It flashes across her features so clearly that there's no mistaking it. Her green eyes widen, her lips part slightly, and her hand reaches out toward the box before she catches herself and pulls back.
She knows this box.
Excitement builds inside me, hot and urgent. This box belonged to her father. I'm certain of it. After all this time, all the dead ends and false leads, we've finally found something real. Something that might actually give me the answers I need.
"You recognize it," I say, my voice rough with anticipation.
She nods slowly, her gaze still fixed on the box. "It was my father's. He kept it in his study. I saw it a few times when I was younger, but he never told me what was inside."
I pick up the box, feeling the weight of it in my hands. It's heavier than I expected, solid metal that's held up well despite being buried in this underground room. The lock is rusted but intact,and I know there's no way we're getting it open without breaking it.
"Stand back," I tell Mariya.
She moves away, and I look around the small space until I find what I need. A large rock, probably part of the foundation that crumbled away years ago. I pick it up, testing its weight, then bring it down hard on the lock.
The sound echoes through the underground room, loud and violent. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth strike, the lock gives way with a satisfying crack, and pieces of rusted metal scatter across the dirt floor.
My heart pounds as I set down the rock and reach for the lid. My hands are steady as I lift the lid, but inside, I'm fucking vibrating with anticipation. The lid opens with a creak of protesting hinges and I stare at the contents, my excitement draining away like water through a sieve.
What the fuck?
Inside the box are pieces. Dozens of them. They look handmade, cut from what appears to be photographs or documents, each one irregular in shape and size. They're arranged in layers, separated by thin pieces of cloth, and when I pick one up, I see it's thick, like it's been laminated or sealed somehow.
"What is this?" I mutter, turning the piece over in my fingers.
Mariya moves closer, peering into the box. Her brow furrows as she examines the contents. "I don't know. They look like puzzle pieces."
"Puzzle pieces?" I pick up another one, then another. She's right. They're shaped like puzzle pieces, with interlocking edges that suggest they fit together somehow.
"Did your father ever mention anything like this?" I ask, my frustration building. "Any kind of code or puzzle?"
She shakes her head, her blonde hair falling forward as she leans in to get a better look. "No. I've never seen anything like this before."
I believe her. The confusion on her face is too genuine to be faked. She's as baffled by this as I am.
I carefully lift out the top layer of pieces, setting them aside on the cloth, then examine the next layer. More of the same. Dozens of pieces, maybe hundreds, all carefully cut and preserved. Someone spent a lot of time making this. A lot of effort went into creating whatever the fuck this is.
