The landlord had taped a polite but firm notice to his door: Rent Past Due. Final Warning.
Daniel had $413 in his checking account.
Rent was $1,200.
That morning, his coworker Marcus had mentioned a storage unit auction.
“Sometimes people leave crazy stuff behind,” Marcus had said. “Last year some guy found vintage guitars worth thousands.”
Daniel had laughed.
But now he stood in the sun outside Red River Storage, heart pounding, Lily’s small hand gripping his.
“Are we treasure hunting, Daddy?” she asked, her brown eyes wide with excitement.
“Maybe,” he said, forcing a smile. “Or maybe we’re just window shopping.”
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