That Little Letter

Chapter Eighty Seven

Max had to get ready before he decided to do anything. His father was still not home, probably just staying late at work or picking up some chick from a local bar. It was semi rare for him to do the latter one, but it was always a possibility. He got out of his bedroom and walked down the halls of the house to figure out the plans he needed to go through just to complete his task. What exactly would he have to do? Besides grabbing his father's car keys while he was sleeping, what else would he have to do? He didn't want to pack anything but his phone and charger so that nothing would seem suspicious.

Right before he turned toward the kitchen, his father's open office door caught his attention. The lights were still on in there, but his dad hadn't been home for a good ten hours. And on top of that, it was never normal for him to leave the door open. Maybe there was an emergency at work he had to get to. Or maybe, something was in there that he was trying to deal with before he had to go.

Without waiting for his mind to think it through, Max made his way toward the office and looked around. Papers were scattered around the room and the desk lamp was toppled over into the plastic garbage can right beside the desk. Max's eyebrows knitted together as he looked over the room. The little black and white paintings on the far wall were misleveled and uneven. There was never a time where his father's office was this much of a disaster.

However, there was a little folder placed sloppily on the desk that caught Max's attention. In red ink, it read "Max's Letters". With the slight tilt of his head, Max walked over toward the desk and looked down at the tan coloured folder. There was nothing odd about the exterior, but when he opened it up with hesitant hands, his eyes grew wide when he saw what exactly was inside.