Page 115 of Nothing But Air

“This is good rock.” She ran her hand along the surface. “Really solid.”

“Unlike our last adventure.”

She eyed Marcus making his assent. “Think he brought the rock hammer?”

“I told him to leave it in his pack today.”

She stared up at the rockface above them. “One more pitch should do it.”

“You want to lead this section?”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment the walls between them thinned. Not gone. Just less solid. She nodded and stood.

The last section was straightforward—good holds, obvious features, protection placements that inspired confidence. Eden moved methodically, placing gear with careful precision. She climbed smoothly. With strength.

Watching her lead without hesitation reminded him of one of the reasons he’d fallen for her in the first place.

She pulled over the lip into the cave entrance and stopped.

“Teague?” Her voice held something between surprise and caution. “There’s something up here.”

“What kind of something?”

“The kind that shouldn’t be in an empty cave.”

He moved faster, pulling himself over the edge. Their shoulders brushed as he came up beside her—and neither of them moved away.

The space was not as deep as the others—maybe just ten feet back into the rock and the roof lower. But unlike the empty caves they’d found before, this one held a box.

Not a chest like the ones Nimue and Meg had found, but smaller, maybe the size of a shoebox. It sat on a natural stone shelf as if someone had placed it deliberately. The layer of dust suggested it had been here a long time.

Marcus and Kyle came up the south side. The moment Marcus saw the box, his face went white.

And before anyone could stop him, he lunged for it.

“Wait—” Teague started, but Marcus already had it, was already prying open the lid with that cursed pick. So much for being sure he’d left that thing behind.

The box gave way with a crack and the whine of rusty hinges. Marcus reached inside and pulled out a single piece of paper—yellowed with age, folded multiple times.

He unfolded it carefully. Emotions flickered across his face like shadows from a fire—shock, recognition, grief mixed with relief.

“What is it?” Kyle pushed closer. “Where’s the gold?”

Marcus didn’t answer. Just stood there staring at the paper, eyes getting suspiciously bright.

“Marcus.” Teague kept his voice gentle. “Talk to us.”

“This is why I’ve been acting so crazy.” Marcus’s voice was thick. “Why I’ve been so desperate.” He looked up, eyes wet now.

“Before he died, my grandfather said that one of the hidden boxes had the key to his fortune. My father always thought it was literally a key—to a family safety deposit box we could never access.” He wiped at his eyes. “But my grandfather told me privately that I’d understand when I found it. By that time, he’d given up hope his sons, my dad and uncles, would find them and was counting on me to do it.”

“And this is it?” Eden moved closer to see the paper. “The key?”

“A letter.” Marcus held it up—old-fashioned script, careful and deliberate. “The key to the Roosevelt legacy.”

“A letter?” Kyle’s voice held an edge. “We risked everything for a letter?”

“Let him finish.” Eden’s voice was calm but firm.