She was certain she’d found a rug… but something inside was moving…

“I left because Uncle Greg said Grandma flew to California. Showed me a plane ticket. I didn’t buy it. Her phone went dead. I knew something was wrong.”

They hit the right highway. In the distance, against gray trash heaps, the cabin was smoking. Sarah gasped:

“Hurry! That’s Margaret!”

The roof was collapsing. James sped up, yelled for Sarah to stay back, and ran to the house. Crackling flames echoed inside. Then the stove crashed, and the roof caved in.

Sarah dropped to the ground, hands over her face. She didn’t notice the rain—light, cold, useless against the fire. James stood nearby, silently saying goodbye to his grandmother. Sarah mourned the woman who’d become almost family in days, and her pitiful cabin, now ash before her eyes.

Then, through the crackle of flames and rain, they heard a faint but alive voice:

“Sarah! Sarah! Open it quick!”

They ran toward the sound—coming from bushes behind the fence. There, among tangled branches and roots, they found a hidden exit, covered by an old metal sheet. They pried it open and saw Margaret’s dirty but living face. She sat on wooden steps, barely holding on.

“Jimmy! Grandson… Don’t cry!” Her voice was hoarse but strong. “He got nothing. That scum got nothing!”

Gregory had returned, doused the cabin in gasoline, and set it ablaze. Margaret saw him through a window crack and fled to the cellar. When the floor collapsed, she fell into an old passage she’d once found during a storm. It saved her life again.

Sarah couldn’t hold back tears—emotions she hadn’t felt even when she lost everything: ID, money, hope.

Margaret took her hands:

“Don’t cry, girl! You’re coming with us! You owe us now—I’ll pull you out of this mess. As long as I’m alive, you’re safe.”

At James’s house, Margaret cleaned up, showered, and made calls. An hour later, she announced:

“Jimmy, tomorrow at the consulate, everything’s set for ten. Take Sarah there; I’ve got a contract. But first, we need to dress her properly. Can’t replace ID in someone else’s suit and big shoes.”

“Grandma, like nothing happened,” James grinned. “Back in charge!”…