We drove all night, three people connected by a man and his secrets. Three people whose lives were turned upside down by a broken flowerpot. Around three in the morning, we turned off the main road onto a dirt road.
Sarah’s phone’s navigation system indicated that we were about 20 kilometers away from the location indicated by the coordinates. The road was getting worse. The asphalt was replaced by dirt, and the car began to shudder over the potholes.
I began to worry that we might be stranded somewhere in the desert, with no connection or possibility of help. But Sarah drove confidently, as if she were a regular on those roads. Perhaps she was.
Perhaps she, John, and David often went out into nature, unlike John and I, who preferred urban recreation. Finally, the navigator informed us that we had reached our destination. Sarah stopped the car and turned off the engine.
In the silence that followed, the sounds of the nighttime forest were especially clear. The rustling of leaves, the hoot of an owl, a distant rustling. We got out of the car and looked around.
All around was forest. An ordinary deciduous forest, nothing remarkable. No landmarks or signs indicating a hiding place.
Just trees, bushes, grass, a forest road leading into the distance. “What now?” David asked, scanning the surroundings with a flashlight. “How will we find the hiding place?” Good question.
The coordinates led us here, but what next? There had to be some landmark, some clue. I took out the note and reread it. Coordinates.
Key in the third molar socket. Encrypted documents. Key.
Date of birth (DBO) in alphabetical order. Account access code. First five digits after the decimal point of Pi, plus the year of the relationship.
Nothing to indicate the hiding place. Unless… “It’s in the socket of the upper right third molar,” I said thoughtfully.
What if it’s not just John’s tooth? What if it’s a clue? Third molar. Third molar. Upper right.
I looked to the right and then up. Nothing special. Trees, sky with twinkling stars.
Maybe it’s related to a particular tree,” Sarah suggested, shining the flashlight on the nearest trunks. “But how can you tell which one? There are hundreds here.”
We began examining the trees growing to the right of the path. Nothing unusual. Oaks, birches, and poplars.
No marks, no notches, nothing to indicate a hiding place. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place? David said. Maybe the clue means something else.
I reread the note again. Third tooth, top right. Third.
Right. Up. What if it’s an address? Suddenly I understood.
Third. The third tree? To the right of the path? And up? Maybe the treasure is at the top of the tree? We started counting the trees to the right of the path. First, second, third.
It turned out to be an imposing oak with a spreading canopy. We shone the flashlight upward, scanning the branches. And sure enough, about three meters up in the trunk was a hollow.
“Here it is,” Sarah exclaimed. “This must be the hiding place.”
But how did we get there? The hollow was too high to reach from the ground, and the lower branches of the oak started even higher. “I can try climbing,” David suggested. “I rock climb, I should be able to do it.”
Sarah looked worried, but after a moment’s thought, she nodded. “Okay, but be careful. And if you feel like you can’t go up or down, let us know immediately.”
We’ll think of something. David took off his jacket to make his climb easier and began to scramble up the oak tree trunk. His hands and feet rested securely on the uneven bark.
Sarah and I shone our flashlights to help him see and anxiously watched his progress. Finally, he reached the hollow. There’s something here.
He shouted from above. “Some container!” He pulled a small, capsule-like metal cylinder out of the hollow and began to descend.
A few minutes later, he was standing next to us, displaying his find. The container was tightly sealed with a screw-on lid. I tried to open it, but the lid wouldn’t budge.
“It looks like it’s glued together,” I noticed as I examined the joint between the lid and the body. “Or welded.” “So we need to open it,” Sarah decided…
But not here. Let’s go back to the car. We sat in the cab, turned on the lights, and began to carefully examine the container.
There were no inscriptions or other markings on the smooth metal surface. Only the lid had a small protrusion, similar to a button. “Maybe it needs to be pressed?” David suggested.
I carefully pressed the protrusion. There was a slight click, and the lid lifted slightly. I unscrewed it and looked inside.
In the container were several items: a USB flash drive, a sealed bag with something resembling a chip inside, three passports, and a folded piece of paper. I took out the passports and opened them.
They were foreign ones, issued in the names of Emily, Sarah, and David Novak. Their birth dates matched ours, but their last names had been swapped. Each passport had a matching photograph.
I didn’t know where John had gotten mine. “These are our new documents,” Sarah whispered, looking at the passport with her name on it. “For a new life.” I unfolded the sheet of paper.
It was a handwritten letter from John. Dear ones! If you’re reading this letter, it means you found each other and found the treasure. I hoped I could explain everything myself, but circumstances seem to have turned out differently.
I know you must hate me now. For the lies, for the double life, for all the secrets I kept from you. I don’t apologize.
What I did is unforgivable. But I want you to know that I loved you both.
In different ways, at different stages of life, but with sincerity and depth. Sarah, you were my first true love, the mother of my child, my rock in the darkest times. You gave me a family when I needed it most.
Emily, you came into my life later, when I no longer believed I could experience those feelings. You brought me light and warmth, you reminded me of who I really am. I know I caused you pain, and I can’t do anything about it. But at least I can guarantee your safety.
In the container, you’ll find everything you need to start a new life. Passports, a USB flash drive with instructions, a microchip with an encryption key to access the server with additional documents, and the access code to the bank account in a Swiss bank.
The first five digits after the decimal point of pi are 14159, plus the year I met Sarah, 2007. There’s enough money there for you to start a new life in any country in the world. I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.
If I can get out of this situation, I’ll find you. If not, I want you to know that you were the best thing in my life.
Take care of each other. John. I finished reading and looked up.
Sarah was crying silently, covering her face with her hands. David hugged her shoulders, barely holding back his tears. I felt a lump in my throat too. John loved us both.
In a different way, but sincerely. And now, perhaps, he was in danger or even dead, trying to protect us. What do we do now? David asked when we’d calmed down a bit.
I looked at the passports, the USB drive, John’s letter. “Do what he suggests,” I replied. “Start a new life. Together.”
Sarah looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears. Together? Are you really ready to live with us? After everything that’s happened? I didn’t know if I was ready for this. To live with the woman who was also my husband’s wife, with the son he never spoke about.
It was strange, unusual, beyond anything I could have imagined a week ago. But we had no choice. We were connected.
Connected by John, his secrets, his love, his concern for our safety. And perhaps only together could we survive this new and dangerous reality. Yes, I nodded. Together.
At least until we’re sure the danger has passed. Sarah wiped her tears and smiled weakly. Okay.
Together, then together. After all, we’re a family now. Strange, unusual, but family.
