Inside was a savings account book showing forty-eight thousand dollars, a stack of letters, and a tiny velvet pouch. Walter had secretly saved the money over twelve years. His final letter explained that part of it was intended for Lucy’s education, while the rest was meant for the trip to Scotland that Walter and I had spent years promising ourselves we would someday take. Then I opened the velvet pouch. Inside was my wedding ring—the same ring I had lost thirty years earlier. Walter had apparently found it without telling me and kept it safe all those years. I slipped it onto my finger with tears running down my face.

Outside the bank, Carla apologized. Her hands trembled as she admitted she had handled everything badly. I told her that having rules was not wrong, but rules should never become weapons for humiliating someone. She lowered her eyes and nodded, and this time I believed she understood. That spring, Lucy and I finally boarded a plane for Scotland. Walter’s wooden box traveled safely inside my carry-on, while the wedding ring remained on my finger. Walter never got to make that journey beside us, but everywhere Lucy and I went, something of him came along. The little brass key had not opened a fortune—it had opened the future Walter had quietly saved for us.