My name is Walter, and for most of my life I worked as a gardener.
After my wife passed away, the days became quieter than I had imagined they would. For a long time, I focused on simple routines, but eventually I began buying and restoring foreclosed properties. The work gave structure to my days and kept my hands occupied when grief felt especially heavy.
One property on the edge of town had been abandoned for some time. The house needed extensive work, and the backyard had been largely reclaimed by weeds and brush.
As I began clearing the overgrowth, I noticed an old white refrigerator lying on its back.
Years of experience had taught me that abandoned appliances can be dangerous, especially if doors remain attached. I planned to remove it before continuing with the cleanup.
Then I heard something.
At first it was faint enough that I thought I might have imagined it. But after a moment, I heard it again—a weak scratching sound followed by a soft whine.
I moved closer.
The refrigerator door was secured with a padlock.