The Legacy of the Hidden Grove

Joseph tugged at a patch of dry turf, his small fingers brushing against a rusted metal corner half-buried beneath the roots of the ancient sycamore. 'Found it!' he shouted, prompting his cousin Sarah and their best friend Mason to abandon their colorful kickballs and race toward him. Inside the box lay no gold, but a weathered sheet of parchment, coarse as palm fiber and etched with a meticulous map of the garden’s old boundaries. Mason traced a faded crimson mark in the center. 'That’s the stone fountain,' he whispered, 'the one that went dry years ago.' A cryptic note from Joseph’s late gra...