Page 165 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

Nyx's hand finds my shoulder, offering silent support as emotion threatens to overwhelm me.

"She gave me this box to open, but..." My voice catches slightly. "She passed away before midnight struck."

Her soft gasp just proves that she’s listening to the take, that my past circumstance actually matters to her.

"I never had the courage to open it," I whisper, staring at the box that's carried so many years of wondering. "Kept waiting for the right moment, but it never seemed to come..."

My gaze rises to meet hers.

"Until now."

The simple admission changes something in the air between us – this sharing of vulnerability creates a connection deeper than mere designation dynamics. Her presence beside me feels right in ways I can't quite explain as if her understanding somehow completes the circuit left open by years of careful avoidance.

Having her here makes all of this less frightening. Finally facing what I should have years ago, but not having the courage to accept my grandma wasn’t coming back.

My fingers find the ribbon's end, tugging gently at the carefully preserved bow. The fabric slides smooth against itself, releasing a knot that's held for over two decades. Each movement feels weighted with significance – not just openinga physical container but unlocking part of myself I've kept carefully guarded.

The box itself shows signs of age – corners softened by time, surface marked by years of careful handling. But the ribbon's colors remain vibrant as if protecting whatever treasure waits within from time's usual decay.

Green and pink – colors that seemed like a random choice now strike a deeper chord as I notice how perfectly they match Nyx's hair. The coincidence feels too precise to be an accident as if my grandmother somehow knew this moment would come.

Knew exactly who needed to be present when the seal finally broke.

The lid lifts to reveal two items – a carefully folded note and an ornate key decorated with a tiny silver bell at its end.

My breath catches as recognition strikes, memories flooding back of that same bell's gentle chime marking each customer's entrance to my grandmother's sanctuary.

Nyx leans closer, curiosity is evident in her expression.

"What's the key for?"

A smile spreads across my face, growing wider as understanding dawns.

"Her bakery," I whisper, emotion making my voice rough. "I never thought she'd leave it to a kid, but it was her most prized possession."

The weight of such trust strikes deeper as I explain.

"She was the only female baker in the entire city back then. Every Alpha in the business district tried diligently to force her out, but she never backed down."

"Does the bakery still exist?" Nyx asks softly, her hand finding my shoulder in gentle support.

"No," I admit, fingers tracing the key's intricate design. "But I have a strong hunch this envelope contains the land deed. Whichmeans..." Excitement builds as implications register. "I still own it."

Her eyes widen with understanding as I continue, "The government could let some rich asshole build over it, but the moment I present these documents, my ownership claim supersedes their plans. She made sure of that."

A quiet chuckle escapes as memory surfaces.

"555 Zodiac Street."

"Angel number with such a unique street name," Nyx observes with a smile that lights up her entire face.

"We could check if the building still stands tomorrow," I suggest, heart racing at the possibility. After so many years of avoiding this moment, suddenly I can't wait to see what remains of my grandmother's legacy.

"What would you do with it?" Nyx's question carries genuine interest rather than mere politeness.

"I don't know," I admit, though possibilities begin forming in my mind. "If my legs keep improving with treatment... who knows? Maybe I'll open a bakery."

Her gasp of delight catches me off guard.

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