I assumed I had stumbled across some small-time criminality when I saw Mrs. Harper, my reclusive neighbor, slinking into my yard with a shovel. However, the secrets she revealed were more sinister than I had anticipated, drawing me into a maze of mystery and terror.

I experienced a mixture of relief and uneasiness as I stepped onto our new porch. It was almost uncanny how silent the area was, as if everyone was holding their breath. In search of a new beginning, Mark and I left the city for here, but the old house next door, and its enigmatic owner, Mrs. Harper, gave away secrets we weren’t prepared for. Mrs. Harper, an elderly woman who lived alone, had sold the land to us. She had looked at us with wide, suspicious eyes from behind her screen door when we first met her. Mark heard things, but I didn’t give it any thought. Were you aware of the peculiar circumstances surrounding her husband’s death?

” “One evening,” Mark remarked. I remarked, tucking into the waffles we were eating, “It’s probably just gossip.”

“You are aware of the speech patterns in small towns.” “Perhaps. However, there is something strange about her. She peeks out her windows; have you noticed?

Yes, I had. However, I didn’t want to acknowledge that it also made me feel a bit uneasy. I shrugged, got lost in my work, and made an effort to block out the feeling that her eyes were always on me, waiting, watching, whenever I walked by her house. Then the day arrived when everything was different. I was at home, feeling quite ill, which was uncommon for me because, well, I didn’t let myself get sick. However, there I was, attempting to ignore the persistent headache while cuddled up on the couch with a mug of tea.

I had just gone to sleep when our dog, Max, leaned against the window and began to growl. I spotted her as soon as I sat up. Mrs. Harper was carrying a little shovel as she crept across our yard. She began excavating close to the ancient oak tree that Max had recently become so fixated on.

Disregarding the minor tilt of the room caused by my abrupt shift, I leaped from the couch. “What the devil?” As I hurried out the door, hardly stopping to put on my shoes, I murmured to myself. Now that he could sense my anxiousness, Max was up and barking. With my heart thumping in my ears, I wrenched the door open and strode across the grass. “Mrs. Harper!” I yelled, louder than I had meant to. With the shovel halfway into the earth, she froze with her back to me. “What are you doing?” Her hands were shaking and her face was pale as she slowly turned around. She simply gazed at me for a moment, her eyes wide with something I couldn’t quite identify. Fear? Feeling guilty? She appeared as though she were a deer in headlights, too shocked to move.

I wasn’t. She looked down at the hole she had dug as she mumbled.

“You weren’t what?” More confused than angry, I snapped. Our yard is that one, Mrs. Harper. What are you uncovering? She took a while to respond. Instead, she knelt down and pulled a little, worn bag from the mud. The fabric was tattered at the edges and covered in muck. She lifted it, and whatever was within rattled a little.

Mrs. Harper’s hands were shaking as she opened the bag and undid the knot holding it. When I saw what was inside, my breath seized in my throat. The items in the sack, which were covered in grime but clearly precious, shone in the light, glistening gold and glinting diamonds. This was no typical memento. These were antiquities that looked ancient and belonged in a museum rather than a neighbor’s backyard.

When Mrs. Harper finally spoke, she sighed shakily and spoke in a hoarse whisper. Years ago, my husband discovered these in the middle of the forest. With his metal detector, he was constantly out there, hoping to find some lost wealth. I believed it to be a pointless pastime, something to occupy him once he retired. She stopped, staring off into the distance, absorbed in her past. “But he discovered something after that.”

I tried to make sense of it all as I looked from the bag to her face. “So, he discovered… treasure? “Out in the woods?” With tears in her eyes, she nodded. “Not just any treasure. He thought it was from a bygone era, something precious and old.

“It was exciting at first,” she added. We believed we had discovered something that would permanently alter our lives. Even though we kept it a secret, somebody managed to find out. They came sniffing around our land, looking for what we had hidden, like treasure hunters.

A shiver went down my back. This was beginning to sound more like a nightmare than an adventure. “What took place? Did they attempt to harm you? Her face was haunted, but she shook her head. No, not directly. My spouse developed paranoia. Even though he concealed the treasure here, he was always afraid. April, it took over him.

She put her arms about herself as though to stave off the memories, and her voice wavered. “The stress of it all ultimately took him away from me.” As I listened, a knot formed in my throat. I was at a loss for words and couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she was telling me. “Mrs. Harper, I really apologize. I didn’t know.

“She smiled at me, a little, sad smile, the kind people give when they’re not crying anymore.” Since then, I’ve been hiding this secret and living in constant anxiety. I used to wake up every day wondering if someone would come for it today. That’s the reason I’ve been quiet and why I’m constantly staring out the window. I have been anticipating the other shoe dropping. I gazed at the bag, feeling as though its weight had increased significantly.

This was the source of years of suffering, not just a collection of baubles. Before I could think, I blurted out, “You can’t keep living like this.” “This ongoing fear is not worth any amount of wealth.” She let out a deep, protracted sigh, as though it were the culmination of years of stress. “I understand,” she said softly.

However, what should I do? What’s it all for if I give it away? A dense, oppressive quiet descended between us.