When the lawyer revealed that none of my relatives would receive an inheritance, the room sank into disappointment. Their attention quickly shifted to Berta, whom no one wanted to care for. Even though my small apartment wasn’t ideal, I gladly took her home, knowing Grandma would have trusted me with her. Life with Berta felt warm and familiar, a living reminder of Grandma’s gentle encouragement. But one evening, after a long shift at the hospital, everything changed.
My mother arrived at my door, insisting I was hiding something valuable. I explained again that I had only inherited Berta, but she didn’t believe me. Later that night, while petting Berta, I noticed a tiny opening in her collar containing a tag with an address and locker number. Curious and nervous, I followed the clue and found a small key that led to a storage locker at the train station.
