The door was a bit stubborn when he tried to open it but finally, it swung open in an ancient wooden creak of relief. He picked up his candle from beside him and began walking down the stairs into the secret room. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he was shocked by what he saw:
Barrels and barrels of gold coins and chains! There were at least ten or more barrels placed against the walls and others on the floor with their gold contents spilled on the floor.
'Oh my..! What the..!' He could not begin to think of what was before his very eyes. He walked towards some barrels which were closed.
Diamonds and rubies, filled the barrels to the brim!
Questions were starting to travel inside his head. Where did all this treasure come from? Did Howard make some sort of deal with this so-called "Finch"? Brendan had only been expecting a few gem bills. He had not even the slightest idea of what he should feel; happiness or just shock? This was all too much of a surprise for him…An overwhelming surprise.
He began walking backwards out of the room, his terror-filled gaze still on the riches in front of him.
He closed the door and put the dusty carpet back on. He was only sure of one thing now. He had to find answers.
*
The next day found Brendan awoke early. He ate barely cooked oatmeal and headed straight for school. He did not talk to anyone until he got into class and in class the only time he had opened his mouth was when Mr. Sparrow, the Literature teacher, had asked him to describe the term "onomatopoeia". He had no problem or difficulty in answering this question since Literature was his favorite subject next to Biology.
Finally, Miss Putin came in for the History lesson. He had not even been paying attention for the whole thirty minutes. His mind seemed to be adrift somewhere in an unknown world. Finally, the lesson ended and the bell for recess rang.
'Don't forget to write your essay on Kennan Rodgers' theory on the cosmos,' she reminded the class as it moved out.
Brendan approached her as soon as she sat down behind her desk. 'Miss Putin,' he began.
'Yes, Brendan?' She looked at him with a warm smile.
'I need your help.'
'With exactly what?' Her face became curious.
'Can you …' He was beginning to regret coming to her for help with something as huge a problem as this. 'I need help finding information about my parents. My biological parents,' he said finally, keeping the treasure out of the question.
'Find information about your parents?' She nodded her head thoughtfully. 'I try my best,' she said, a friendly grin brightening her face.
'Thank you. I really appreciate it.' He forced a grin too and left for the cafeteria.