When Ross and Riley purchased their first home, they were thrilled with the great deal they got. However, on moving-in day, a neighbor’s visit brought more than just a pecan pie; she shared puzzling rumors about their new home.
The house seemed like a dream—a quaint old place at the outskirts of a peaceful neighborhood. It boasted a wraparound porch, tall windows, and charming Victorian details, exactly the type of home they had always imagined.

“It’s not perfect,” Ross said as they shifted boxes. “But with a little bit of work, we’ll make it our own.” Though some updates were needed—chipped paint here, a window replacement there, and some mysterious missing bathroom tiles—they felt the unbeatable price was a stroke of luck.

“Granted, there are some projects,” Hilary, their real estate agent, cheerfully noted. “But I know someone who can help. Just think about the champagne we can have when this deal closes!” Both were too caught up in the excitement of their new endeavor to consider why Hilary seemed so eager.

As they settled in, curious neighbors glanced from their homes, curious about the new arrivals. Taking a break, Ross and Riley sat in the yard, nibbling on deli sandwiches, when Hazel, a lively neighbor, approached with a pie in hand.
“Hi there! Welcome!” greeted Hazel, a merry lady in her sixties.

“Thank you!” Riley responded warmly. “I’m Sierra, and this is Mike.”
“I’ve been here for thirty-five years,” Hazel said with a smile. “We don’t get newcomers often! It’s so nice to have you around!” Despite her cheerfulness, there was something in Hazel’s eyes when she glanced at the house—was it concern?

“It’s a beautiful house,” Hazel nodded thoughtfully. “You’re very brave to buy it, though.” “Brave? What does that mean?” Riley prompted.
Hazel hesitated, then shared a story about a rumored hidden treasure claimed to be on the property.

Hazel explained the previous owners’ attempts to find contraband supposedly hidden by the home’s original owner, a crafty smuggler from the 1800s. Despite drastic renovations and even hiring archaeologists, no significant treasures were ever discovered.

The couple laughed off the wild tale that evening, dismissing it as a figment of an imaginative neighbor. However, the seed of mystery had been planted.
Weeks later, when odd noises echoed through the walls, curiosity got the better of them. They traced the sounds to the basement and discovered a concealed space containing a small metal box.

To their surprise, inside were old letters chronicling clandestine affairs, rather than the anticipated gold or jewels. The letters unveiled secrets about notable families that stirred long-since buried scandals.
Apprehensive about harboring such potentially dangerous information, Ross and Riley resealed the box and replastered the wall.

Deciding to prioritize their safety, they planned to fix up the house and move on, never revealing the whole truth behind its mysteries.
After sharing a comforting last dinner with Hazel, Ross and Riley moved into a modern house, one free of secrets and peculiar histories, content with trading grandiosity for peace.
