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{Strictly Fiction} For Whatever is Hidden…

Melissa Beene Ford/ Fiction

It had been nearly two years since she had last laid eyes on the contents of her safe deposit box, according to the signature card at the bank.

Hard to believe so much time had passed.

Her reason for today’s visit was mostly sentimental; her grandmother’s birthday was in a week or so. As she always did around this time of year, she began missing her grandmother terribly, and on a whim decided she wanted to wear the ring that had been left to her in her grandmother’s will, the ring that had been safely tucked away in her safe deposit box for entirely too long.

Ed, the grandfatherly gentleman who had worked at this very desk since her earliest memories of coming to the bank as a child with her father, escorted her into the bank vault, turned his key, and left her alone to sort through her memories.

She wondered if Ed could see the anxiety behind her eyes in spite of her best efforts to appear calm and collected. It was always intimidating to her, this bank vault; row after row of metal boxes, always cool and eerily silent, creepy to her even before…

She wondered at the content of the other hundreds of metal boxes, what sort of people had hidden their treasures inside, and if any of them would suspect on their own visits to the bank that the little box on the third row up from the floor contained what it did.

She opened her box and with trembling hands slowly pulled out the metal drawer inside and sighed with relief when she saw that all was exactly as she had left it.

Perhaps she had read too many crime novels, but never could quite shake the paranoia that her little safe deposit box would be accessed by the wrong people and her secrets fall into the wrong hands. Oh, it all looked harmless enough; that little stack of insurance papers, savings bonds and whatnot, stacked inside. All things of no value to anyone but herself. Underneath the stack of papers was a little cloth bag; she carefully removed her grandmother’s beloved ring and placed it on her right hand. The ring always made her happy and sad and familiar tears welled up in her eyes.

But it wasn’t the sole reason she came to the bank today. It had been a while, and she had to check… had to know.

She slowly reached beneath the stack of papers and felt toward the back of the box, and there it was. She sighed for the second time when her fingers closed around it.

It was a small plastic flash drive.

A flash drive that she had paid thousands to a computer forensics expert to obtain.

Contents which, should they be revealed, would destroy a man.

Though she had wanted to, and been sorely tempted on many an occasion to do so, it was never in her best interest to release all that she knew.

He would lose his job.

He would lose his family.

He would lose any credibility he had, but it would be worse than that.

He had shown that there was no limit to the depths to which he was willing to sink; the the evil of which he was capable.

She would suffer greatly should her information become known, of that she was certain.

She was afraid.

And so there it remained: safely hidden inside her tiny bank box there at the bank.

She sat quietly as he had mocked and ridiculed her and lied about her. She held her tongue while he stole from her. She smiled when he did everything in his power to destroy her while he arrogantly crowed about his victory.

He was the master of leading a double life: Sunday School teacher by day, an expensive habit of strip clubs and prostitutes by night.

It was all on the flash drive; all the text messages he had sent to these prostitutes from his phone, all evidence of what he had done and where he had been, right there on the hard drive of her computer, because he’d been sloppy and careless enough to sync his phone with her computer.

And now it was all on this flash drive. She had played dumb and pretended she didn’t see, and he, in his arrogance, had taken advantage of her perceived ignorance. But the truth was all there.

There was more, criminal activity even. The evidence on this flash drive pointed toward crimes committed that would effectively end life as he knew it, but to release this information would jeopardize her own future as well.

Oh, he thought he had won… but that was because he didn’t know about the flash drive.

It wasn’t the only copy.

In her paranoia, she had made other copies; one to her attorney, another hidden with a trusted confidante, with explicit instructions from her that nothing was to be done with this information.

For now.

She replaced the contents of the safe deposit box, slid the drawer back into place, and locked the door.

Her anxiety was gone, replaced with a peace that one of these days, in due time, all that was hidden would be revealed, and she smiled.

For there is nothing hid, which shall not be manifested; neither was anything kept secret, but that it should come into the open… Mark 4:22

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  1. Marksgirl Tlb says

    September 3, 2012 at 12:49 am

    Strictly fiction, eh? 😉

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in an 80-year-old house completely worth it … what broken pipes, icy hardwood floors and drafty windows? 🤔 I forgot already. #comeonspring #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Happy Saturday ☀️ Happy Saturday ☀️
Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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