"What's in that box?" asked Lance, puzzled by the sight of Madame Hela bringing it to him. Is this some kind of joke? This woman had never given him gifts before — all he ever got was the right to choose one item on his birthday. Is this the day she decides to change? No, I can’t be too hopeful. Maybe it’s a prank. Maybe this is her revenge for all the years I pranked her.

  In her right hand was a medium-sized box — though “box” wasn’t quite the right word. It looked more like a small treasure chest, its surface a smooth wooden brown, almost polished. Hela held it up with both hands, offering it to Lance.

  "I don't know myself," she said. "The police handed it to me when you were brought to the orphanage. I figured you were too young back then — only six. So I decided to hold onto it until the day you left. Only God knew it’d take this long."

  She sighed, giving a rare, warm smile.

  Lance was speechless for a moment. That smile... it almost looked real.

  He took the chest with his left hand. "Cool. So what's inside?"

  "Sadly, it needs a key to open. The police never found it, and since it isn’t mine, I didn’t pry. If you want, I can give you a hammer to crack it open — but you risk damaging whatever's inside. Best option is to find a keysmith who can make a custom key."

  Lance nodded and started packing the chest into his bag.

  "Iris will miss you," Hela added softly. "Just like you, she never got along with the other kids. She doesn’t show it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I find her crying herself to sleep tonight."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "She’s not ten anymore," Lance said confidently. "She’s pushing twenty. You should help her get a job — something to keep her busy. Everything will work out. I already told her to write to me every week."

  "Is that so?" Hela smiled faintly. "Then there really won’t be any problem."

  With that, she turned her back and walked away.

  That’s it? Lance scoffed inwardly. So I was right — the crying in the office was fake. Someone needs to sign this woman up for an acting role while she still has time.

  Suddenly, the sound of an engine filled the air. Lance turned to see a sleek black four-wheeler roll in through the orphanage’s main gate. The car glided toward him like a shadow with wheels, stopping right in front of him. The door opened, and Mr. Edwin stepped out, placing his hands on his hips.

  "Shall we start loading up?" he asked.

  Before Lance could respond, he heard a sudden rush of footsteps. A group of kids came running toward him — or so he thought. Since when did they care about me? he wondered. Now that I’m leaving, they all want to say goodbye?

  But his hope was short-lived. The kids passed him without a second glance, swarming around Mr. Edwin instead.

  Confused and a little annoyed, Lance asked one of the kids, "Yo, what’s the deal? Why are you all over his car? Haven’t you seen one before?"

  "Just a car?" the boy replied, wide-eyed. "Dude, that’s not just any car. That’s a Lycron Vexora! One of the rarest vehicles in the world. Worth nearly a million dollars. Only 10,000 of them were ever made!"

  One million dollars?! Lance's eyes lit up. He stared at the car, imagining the bright future ahead of him — for once, with real hope.

  But amidst the gossip, a familiar voice called out behind him.

  "Lance... thanks for one hell of a time. Take care of yourself."

  He turned to look, trying to catch the speaker, but only saw Madame Hela walking slowly back to her office.

  "So you did cry," Lance thought with a small grin. "Why hide it behind that iron mask of yours?"

  Lance gave Edwin a small nod, and Edwin popped open the trunk. After loading all the bags, the two settled into the front seats. The moment was finally here — freedom. Lance hesitated, taking in the orphanage one last time, before the engine roared to life, and the black beast of a car rolled away from the only home he had ever known.