Kael was standing on the sidewalk.
Behind him, the iron gates of Lancaster Estate were slowly closing with a heavy, metallic groan.
He took out his phone.
Only one signal bar.
Makes sense. The mansion was surrounded by forest and far from the city, and there weren't any cell towers nearby. His grandfather, a lover of all things natural, he didn't allow any internet towers to be installed around his property.
It wasn't about money—Kael still had a cheap data plan. But out here, even that was nearly useless.
He walked a little farther down the road, past the tall oaks that lined the driveway. The signal bumped up to two bars. That was enough.
He opened a rideshare app and selected the cheapest option. He had to be careful—his grandfather had left him nothing, and Kael would have to stretch every dollar he had left.
The wait time said thirty minutes. Longer than usual, but not surprising. This place was practically off the grid.
Kael paced along the roadside, the light drizzle slowly soaking. He ignored it.
Finally, a gray sedan pulled up, the engine humming low.
The window rolled down. "You Kael?"
He nodded and slid into the back seat. "Downtown. Elbridge Hotel."
The driver grunted in response and pulled away, tires hissing against the wet road.
Kael looked out the window as the trees blurred past, the mansion vanishing behind them. Then came the suburbs, and finally, the jagged edge of the city skyline.
The car stopped in front of the Elbridge Hotel. A cheap hotel with a blurry sign that flickered on and off, and cracks in the stairs.
Kael got out of the car, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. Rain had picked up, a soft drizzle turning into a steady fall that slicked the sidewalk and clung to his clothes.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and confirmed the fare. $38.60. Painful, but expected. He tapped "Tip: $2" and hit "Complete Ride."
The driver gave him a small nod. "Take care, man."
Kael shut the door, watching the sedan pull away into the misty street. Then he turned to face the Elbridge Hotel for a moment, staring up at the flickering neon sign. One of the letters was missing. Probably had been for years.
Inside, the lobby smelled like old carpet and lemon-scented cleaner. A TV mounted in the corner played some late-night talk show with the volume barely audible. The front desk clerk didn't look up from his phone until Kael dropped his bag with a soft thud.
"Just one night," Kael said.
The clerk tapped a few keys. "ID and card."
Kael handed them over. His debit card would probably hate him tomorrow, but that was a problem for later.
The transaction was quick. Room 214. Second floor.
The hallway was dim and narrow, lit by dull yellow bulbs. His room was at the far end.
Kael slid the keycard, the lock clicked, and he stepped inside.
The room was small and smelled faintly of bleach and something older, like cigarette smoke that had seeped into the wallpaper. The bed was made, at least. Stiff white sheets, one flat pillow. A small table sat under the window, with a plastic chair tucked in.
Kael let the duffel bag drop to the floor. He stood there for a moment, just breathing, taking it in.
He peeled off his damp jacket, hung it over the back of the chair, and sat down. The envelope in his coat pocket crinkled as he moved. He pulled it out slowly, laying it flat on the table. His name stared back at him in sharp, deliberate handwriting.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then he reached into his bag and pulled out his old laptop. The USB drive was next.
Kael plugged it in.
His fingers hovered over the trackpad, the cursor resting on the video file labeled "For Kael".
His grandfather's final message.
The screen flickered.
Then, Theodore Lancaster appeared.
Even through the grainy resolution, his grandfather still looked sharp. Regal. Even in old age, he held himself with the same authority that made him one of the most powerful men in the city.
But there was something else in his expression. Something Kael had never seen before.
Not power. Not arrogance.
Something softer.
"Kael."
His voice, though weakened by age, still carried weight.
"If you're watching this, it means I am gone. And it also means you are probably furious."
Kael exhaled sharply. Understatement.
"I know what you're thinking. You spent years by my side. You expected a reward. And yet, when the will was read, your name was nowhere to be found."
His grandfather let out a small chuckle, but there was no malice in it.
"Good. That means you're paying attention."
Kael frowned.
"You see, Kael, I never cared for those who followed me like vultures, waiting for their inheritance. That's why your uncles and aunts received only scraps."
There was a pause. A sharp inhale.
"But you… you were different. You came to me not out of love, nor respect, but desperation. And yet, despite your reasons, you stayed. You took care of me when no one else would. Whether it was for money or not… you stayed."
"And that, Kael, is why you are the only one I trust with what matters most."
His grandfather leaned forward slightly.
"Open the envelope."
The video ended.
The screen went black.
Kael blinked.
He stared at the laptop, as if the video might suddenly continue, revealing some hidden explanation. But it was over.
For a long moment, he sat there, processing.
Then, slowly, he reached for the envelope.
With careful fingers, Kael peeled it open, shaking out its contents onto the desk.
A single brass key.
And a folded slip of paper.
Kael unfolded it, his eyes scanning the neatly written address. It wasn't in the city. It wasn't even near the city.
The place was in the countryside, in a village he had never heard of before.
Of all the things his grandfather could have left him—a key to an unknown location in the middle of nowhere was not what he expected.