I found myself at the park without even realizing how I got there. The same one where Dad first taught me to play. I sat down at a stone table, opened the box, and began arranging the pieces. I moved the knight, then the bishop. My hands remembered the rhythm, the flow of old games. Then—something strange. A soft clinking noise from inside the bishop. I shook it again. Rattle. Curious, I checked the rest. One by one, each piece had a similar sound. Something was hidden inside.
Before I could dig further, Lara’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. She sat across from me, uninvited. “Still clinging to Daddy’s little toys?” she taunted, flicking a pawn forward. I responded in kind. We played. Between moves, her words were knives. “It’s just wood,” she sneered. “You always thought it meant something, but it’s just a silly game.” She shifted her knight. “Checkmate,” she declared, then swept the pieces off the board with one grand gesture.
They scattered across the stone. One landed near my shoe. I picked it up. Heavier than I remembered. I turned it over in my palm. Click. Not hollow. Not just wood. There was definitely something inside.
Lara was watching closely now, eyes sharp with suspicion. But instead of asking questions, she smiled sweetly. “Dinner tonight. Mom wants us all together. Said we should honor him.” It didn’t sound like an invitation. It sounded like a warning wrapped in politeness.
That evening, she was already in the kitchen when I came downstairs. Cooking, laughing, wearing an apron she used to mock. “Rosemary chicken,” she said brightly. “And a vegan dish for Mom.” She was putting on a show. Perfect daughter. Flawless host. She passed out plates and poured water like she hadn’t just desecrated my father’s memory. I stayed silent, placing the closed chessboard on the hallway console—calm, quiet, but not forgotten. It was no longer a keepsake. It was bait.
Our mother noticed. “You’ve been oddly pleasant today,” she remarked to Lara.
“Trying to be better,” Lara replied. “We’re family.”
But Mom’s gaze lingered on me. “Some bonds are tested. Some people endure.” I met her eyes and gave a quiet nod. No arguments. Just presence.
Lara laughed to break the silence. “Let’s not spoil dinner.”
Mom’s smile was thin. “You should start packing in the morning,” she said. “Just so there’s no… confusion.”
I didn’t respond. I cleared my plate and went upstairs. Locked my door. The game was far from finished.
Later that night, I heard the floorboards creak softly. I stepped into the hallway silently. There, crouched in the low light, was Lara. The chessboard lay open. Pieces cracked. Velvet pouches exposed. A paring knife beside her. She was plucking out tiny, shimmering stones.
Her breath caught when I spoke. “So, not just wood after all.”
She turned, slowly. “You knew?”
I didn’t answer. She rose, holding a pouch like a trophy.
“I figured it out. He hid the treasure in the game—and I found it.”
I stared at her. “You smashed it open like a thief.”
Our mother stepped into the light then, her face unreadable. “She figured it out. You didn’t.” They stood together, proud and smug. Lara poured the stones into her hand. They glittered under the hallway light.
“Check and mate,” she said.
I looked at her calmly. “No. Zugzwang.”
She frowned. “What?”
I stepped forward. “Every move you make from here only makes things worse.”
She glanced at the gems.
“Glass,” I said. “Colored glass. From an old sewing kit I kept since high school. I switched them out the morning after the funeral.”
Her hands began to tremble. “You’re lying.”
I reached into my coat and pulled out an envelope. “Bank deposit confirmation. The real pouch is already safe—in my name.”
She looked at our mother. No one spoke.
Then I reached into the lining of the chessboard and pulled out a folded piece of paper. An older will, signed and sealed.
“To my daughters,” I read aloud. “If you’re reading this, the game has reached its conclusion. Lara, I loved you. I gave you everything—freedom, opportunity. Kate, I left you with little but entrusted you the map. This was my final game. If honesty guides you, you may share in peace. If not, all belongs to Kate. I gave you the pieces. I needed to see who would protect the whole.”
I folded the letter and looked up. Lara’s face was frozen in disbelief.
“Checkmate,” I said.