Six Digits Under The Glaze

Synopsis

To keep her ego inflated at her wedding, I blow half a month's rent on her gift, handing over a three-thousand-dollar check only to get a secondhand mug in return. I spend the next three years calling her a backstabbing leech, blocking her number, and cutting her out of my life for good. But today, while I'm packing up my apartment, that piece of junk rolls out of a box again. I'm ready to smash it into a million pieces just to vent, but the weight of it stops me cold. It's way too heavy. It has that unmistakable, dense pull of pure gold buried under the ceramic. With shaking hands, I scrape away the thick glaze on the bottom until a carved address and a six-digit code stare back at me. My heart starts hammering against my ribs.