I spent the night searching for the key. I checked his dresser, his coat pockets, his briefcase. Finally, around two in the morning, I went to the garage and unlocked his desk — something he had always insisted was “his space.”

Inside, I found a hidden compartment.

And inside that compartment… a small metal key.

Unit 317.

The next morning, I drove to the storage facility.

When I opened the unit, everything looked surprisingly normal at first — shelves with plastic bins, a folding table, a few books and photographs.

But when I opened the first box, my hands began to shake.

Inside were children’s drawings.

One showed a man holding a little girl’s hand.

At the bottom, written in crayon, were the words:

“To Daddy. See you Thursday.”

Thursday.