Emma went out to take the trash in the evening. The yard was ordinary, quiet, gray. Next to the bins was an old chair and a few bags. At that moment, a small truck pulled up next to the dumpster. Two guys got out of the cab, quickly unloaded the damaged chair, didn’t even look around, and drove off immediately.
Emma walked closer. The chair was old, the fabric worn out, one armrest torn, but the structure was solid, the frame intact.
“Strange, why throw something like this away?” she thought. “A little work, and it’ll be like new.”
She stood there for a few minutes, then decided to drag the chair to the entrance. She struggled to carry it into the apartment.
“Are you serious?” her husband Daniel asked, surprised when he saw the find. “Now we’re going to collect furniture from the street?”
“Take a good look,” Emma replied calmly. “The base is solid. We’ll change the upholstery, and it’ll be a great chair. You won’t even want to get up from it.”
Daniel shook his head but smiled.
“FINE, SINCE YOU’VE BROUGHT IT IN, LET’S GIVE IT A TRY. BUT IF THERE ARE COCKROACHES IN THERE, I’LL TAKE IT BACK OUT IMMEDIATELY.”
They carried the chair to the living room. Daniel grabbed the tools and began carefully removing the old upholstery. Meanwhile, Emma took out a light, durable fabric, thread, and placed the sewing machine on the table.
“Who put this together in the first place?” Daniel muttered as he pulled out staples. “It’s securely attached, but it’s done pretty sloppily. You can tell it wasn’t a professional.”
He removed the upholstery from the backrest and moved on to the seat. When the fabric was almost all off, he suddenly stopped.
“Emma… come here. Right now.”
There was something strange in his voice. Emma approached and leaned over the chair. What they saw inside froze them. 😨😱
He pulled apart the stuffing, and inside, there was a package. Then another. And a third.
THEY WERE NEATLY STACKED BUNDLES OF ONE-HUNDRED-DOLLAR BILLS, HELD TOGETHER WITH RUBBER BANDS.
Emma and Mark looked at each other in silence.
“Where did they come from?” Emma asked softly.
“If the chair was thrown away, it means it was no longer needed by anyone…” Mark said slowly. “So, the person who threw it out didn’t know about the money. Or…”
He fell silent.
“Or it’s someone’s evidence,” Emma finished. “Maybe it’s connected to some crime.”
A strange silence fell over the room.
“What do we do? Do we call the police?” she asked.
MARK RAN HIS HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR AND LOOKED AT THE MONEY ONE MORE TIME.
“Or… maybe we buy tickets and go on vacation?”
They stood in the middle of the room, and on the floor lay something that could change their lives… or destroy them.
