VIII: The past 4 - The connection to the present 2

Across from the great beach stood the little island.

That’s what we called it.

It lay about thirty meters from the shore.

Right at its center stood a small house.

We had never seen anyone there.

And whenever we went, we couldn’t open the door or get inside.

We asked our parents if they had ever managed to enter it, but even they hadn’t.

No one had a key.

There was always an air of mystery about it.

Still, deep down, we all believed there was probably nothing special about the place.

“You must go to the house on the little island, Lef!” Sandra told me.

“There, you’ll find a chest with a map, a few small books filled with notes, and a bluish-green stone.”

“But the door doesn’t open! No one’s ever been inside… no one has a key!” I replied, tense and bewildered.

At that moment, she opened her little bag, pulled out a key, and placed it in my palm.

“Go there tomorrow, as I said, and you will learn what you need to know,” she said, before heading down the dusty path back to her hut.

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“Just one thing, Sandra! Where did you get the key?”

“The one who first believed me… he gave me this key, entrusting me to guard the secret until the time was right.”

I thought of my grandfather’s face.

I turned to the sea and stared at the lights across the water.

All the memories with him rushed through me like a wave.

“Oh, grandpa… how much I love you. Maybe deep inside you knew this moment would come for me.

I won’t let you down. I’ll do what must be done,” I whispered to myself as tears streamed down my face.

The next day, I couldn’t stop thinking about my conversation with Sandra.

I hadn’t told anyone, but there was no hiding something like this from my sister.

We talked about everything.

I believed that if I told her, she’d know what I should do.

Just before noon, I asked her to come with me to the little island — just for a walk, I said.

She agreed.

When we arrived, she watched me take out the key and slide it into the lock.

She stared at me, stunned, asking where I got the key and why I was doing this.

But my curiosity and anticipation were so overwhelming, I didn’t answer.

We stepped inside, and I told her to help me look for a chest.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, we found it.

Inside was everything Sandra had described:

A map of all the oceans, books filled with handwritten notes, and the bluish-green gem.

We examined everything, trying to understand their purpose.

My sister started to question me, saying I was hiding something — that this couldn’t all be just coincidence.

So, I told her everything.

And I made her swear not to tell anyone.

She knows me better than anyone.

She knows when I’m upset.

When something’s happened.

When something’s going to happen — and she always tells me to be careful.

She might be younger, but she’s always had a way of looking out for me.

Even if I don’t always listen, I know her heart is in the right place.

After I told her the whole story, she decided to join me in this strange adventure.

I don’t know if she fully believed it… but with her wild imagination, the whole thing intrigued her.

We carried the chest back on the inflatable mattress and returned quickly.

By then, it was midday, and most people were gone from the beach.

No one was swimming — the sea had been off-limits since the shark incident.

We opened the little books with the notes.

Most of it we couldn’t understand.

But then… we came across a section about certain stones.

And that’s where the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together — one by one.

What secret might these stones be hiding?