My dad left me only one thing—his Rolex. But my mom and her new husband sold it for my stepbrother. Then the pawn shop owner rang me up: “There’s something hidden inside this watch that changes everything.”
“Hello? Is this Cameron Martin?” the man’s voice was scratchy over the phone. “This is Frank with DeMarco’s Pawn. I believe I have something that belongs to you.”
“What is it?”
“A Rolex Submariner. Black face. Inscription on the back says, ‘To Cam, love always, Dad.’”
My stomach dropped. I yanked open my desk drawer. The watch was gone. It was the only damn thing my dad left me when he died.
At the pawn shop, Frank, the owner, set the familiar blue leather box on the counter. “Kid named Tanner brought it in. Said it was his dad’s. Left to him.”
My fists curled. Tanner. My mother’s second husband’s son.
“But something’s weird,” Frank said. He took the watch and pressed his fingernail into a nearly invisible groove behind the clasp. A tiny latch popped open. Inside, folded tight, was a scrap of yellowed paper.
My hands shook as I unfolded it. My dad’s sharp handwriting hit me like a punch.
CAM, IF YOU’RE READING THIS, GO TO SAFE DEPOSIT BOX 313 AT UNION FIRST.
I drove straight to my mom’s. I dropped the Rolex on the table. “Lose something?”
My mom’s face went pale. “You pawned it for Tanner,” I said. “For his dumbass app idea.”
“He’s trying to build something!” she shouted. “He has vision! He’s not stuck installing gutters his whole life!”
“So because I work with my hands, I don’t count?” I laughed, a bitter, angry sound. My dad hadn’t just left me a watch. He’d left me a plan. And I was about to execute it.
Full in the first c0mment 👇