The Hidden Truth

Chapter 2

She arrived at the bank with a sweat breaking on her forehead as she pulled into a parking spot. Her anxiety was catching up with her as the adrenaline of the adventure began to wear off during the car ride. She paused a moment and sat in her car with her hands on the steering wheel, squeezing it tightly. Her car had been turned off, but her breathing was labored as she contemplated what would happen when she entered those doors. Her heart was racing. It had been a spell since she had last gone into a building with who knows how many people inside. Her return to the public would be in such a way she hadn't expected or dreamed. Following the instructions that her father left for her. But then she wondered. How could he have known about this all? How could he have known that he couldn't pursue this case himself? Could he have known about his death beforehand? No. That couldn't be possible. It was suicide. A point of irreversible depression that drove the gun to his temple. He couldn't have been planning his inevitable demise years beforehand with his family in mind. It wasn't him. She shook her head and stepped out of her car, grabbing her purse.

It was an older building, one of the originals built when the town had been established in the Roaring 20s. It was large, built of cement and granite. It had pillars that towered over her just like a Victorian mansion with a foreboding atmosphere. Her breath hitched as she stepped up the stairs one foot at a time. People passed her hurriedly, ignoring her nervous figure as she climbed and approached the entrance. With one inhale she opened the door and entered the bustling center of money keeping. She flinched at the noise that echoed off the marble walls and tables where people were negotiating with tellers and bankers. There was an air of importance and dignity around all who moved about the bank, holding their money and business close to their chests. They wore luxurious clothes and walked in heels and dress shoes. They weren't the richest of them all, but they were in high society, earning their fair share of riches. Anastasia cowered as she passed them, nervous to even be a few feet in proximity to them. Sure she had been in such a place herself not that long ago, but she had shut herself out so much that it felt like an alien planet.

Anastasia made her way past the check booths and customer service desks toward the teller booths, all lined with dark stained wood paneling and inch-thick glass from floor to ceiling. She timidly made her way through a line, keeping to herself as she distracted herself with her nails, picking at them in nervousness. Eventually, she had made it to the front of the line, her fingers fitting with the strap of her purse that was slung over her shoulder. She felt as if everyone had turned to her when the teller called her up, but no one had even turned their head. She shook off the invasive thoughts and inhaled deeply when she arrived at the booth at the far end of the wall.

"How may I help you, Miss?" The man asked her cordially, a small smile pricking at the edge of his mouth. She cleared her throat and trembled through her words as she spoke.

"Um, I'm here on behalf of my father, Frank Windsor. I am his daughter, Anastasia Windsor." The teller nodded, waiting for her to continue. Her eyes darted around the room, her heartbeat racing as her face grew red hot with anxiety. "I found a letter from him advising me to come and request the deposit box that he had here with you." She managed.

The teller nodded one last time, clicking and scrolling through his computer. "May I see your ID? Just to confirm." He spoke calmly, his eyes reassuring her that she was doing just fine. She breathed out, calming herself, and nodded to him, shuffling through her purse to grab her driver's license. She handed it to him and he glanced at it before handing it back. "Perfect. Miss Windsor, just step through this door and I'll take you back to your deposit box."

She nodded to him and walked toward the door that separated the common area of business from the rooms behind the bank. The teller opened it for her and led her through, guiding her passed the desks and cabinets of the row of tellers. They turned multiple corners, seeming to weave through a maze of halls before arriving at a locked gate. The teller took out a ring of keys, finding one simple key that fit the lock. He pulled open the gate which revealed a large room decorated with floor-to-ceiling walls of built-in lockers. Some were small and some were large, similar to lockers that would be found at a water park or amusement park. They were old-fashioned, built from wood but modernized with unique locks. The teller motioned for a security guard to come and assist Anastasia and bid her farewell with a sweet smile. The security guard stood tall and intimidating before her, inquiring a brow at her request.