So my grandma used to tell us this one. There was this kid, right—lived in a small town. Found a box in the basement. Old. Had her name on it. Not our grandma’s. Another one. From way back.

Nobody’d opened it in years. She did. Inside was a map. Drawn by hand. And a note that said “when you’re ready.”

She was twelve. She was definitely ready. Took her bike. Followed the map. Ended up at the old mill by the river.

I’ll tell you what was in the mill next time. Promise.
