A young widow picked up a backpack discarded from a sleek SUV at the dump…

Emily silently watched as the car sped away. Someone had tossed out a backpack. But why? She approached cautiously and lifted the find by its strap.

It was a perfectly intact, almost new school backpack, bright blue, with a pattern of cars. Heavy, too. What a great find! I’ll take it for Tommy’s school, Emily thought, barely containing a joyful smile.

Her seven-year-old son, in his second year of school, had been using an old, worn-out backpack handed down from his cousin. As a widow, Emily couldn’t afford to buy a new one. But here was a gift from fate, one she hadn’t expected while walking home along the country road after her second shift.

The wind swirled trash through the air, pushing at her back, slipping under the collar of her thin jacket. Her feet, in soaked boots, ached with fatigue, but she habitually turned toward the dump. It was her small, simple routine—stopping by here on her way home.

Sometimes luck smiled on her: a still-working microwave, a coat that looked almost new after a wash. Wealthier folks often left decent items at the edge, hesitant to toss them into the pile, as if their conscience urged them to give someone less fortunate a chance. This evening, at first, seemed to promise no such find.

Old, irreparable furniture, broken toys. Emily hunched her shoulders and was about to pass by when the roar of an engine sounded in the distance. At the edge of the dump, a sleek black SUV, far too out of place, pulled up.

In the quiet, carefree male laughter rang out. In the next moment, a colorful backpack flew from the open window, landing with a splash in the muddy ground. The tires spun, kicking up debris, and the car peeled out, vanishing into a dusty haze.

Emily stood frozen, a chill creeping down her spine—whether from the cold or some vague unease, she couldn’t tell. She glanced around. No one was nearby.

A couple of stray dogs rummaged through a pile of garbage in the distance, and somewhere a bulldozer’s clatter echoed. She quickly wiped the dirt off the backpack’s pocket with her sleeve. What’s inside? Curiosity battled a faint sense of dread.

Glancing at the road—what if the car came back?—she hesitantly unzipped it. Inside were neatly folded clothes, as if concealing the rest of the contents. Emily pushed them aside and nearly dropped the bag in shock.

Beneath a hoodie were stacks of cash, bundled with bank bands. There were many—more than Emily had ever seen in her life. Her heart pounded loudly.

“God, this can’t be real!” raced through her mind. For a moment, her vision darkened. The ground seemed to slip away.

Her fingers trembled as she cautiously touched the top stack. “Real money,” she thought, “huge stacks of real money.” Emily looked around again, half-expecting a trap…