The piano had a small wooden desk above the keys where sheet music rested. I’d used it hundreds of times. But there was nothing special about it—just polished wood and brass hinges.
Still, curiosity pushed me to stand.
I lifted the lid above the keys and slid back the desk cover as instructed. The mechanism moved with a soft wooden click.
At first, I saw nothing unusual.
Then I noticed something tucked deep inside the internal frame.
A thick envelope.
Yellowed with age.
My fingers trembled as I pulled it free.
The paper felt old—almost fragile.
Inside were several small protective sleeves.
And inside those sleeves…
Stamps.
Five of them.
I didn’t understand what I was looking at at first. They were tiny works of art—intricate engravings, deep colors, strange historical markings.
But even to someone like me, who knew nothing about stamp collecting, they looked… important.
Carefully preserved.
Carefully hidden.
My heart began to race.
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