The Map Hidden in the Wall

The plaster came down in a soft white cloud, and Daniel coughed and waved it away with the back of his glove. He had been swinging the small sledgehammer at the old wall for an hour, opening it up so they could run new wiring through the upstairs hall. The house was over a hundred years old, and every job they started seemed to uncover another problem hidden behind the surface.

"This place is going to bury us," Mara said from the doorway. She held two mugs of coffee, steam curling up into the cold afternoon light. The renovation had already swallowed most of their savings, and they were only halfway through. Still, it was her grandmother's house, the place where Mara had spent every summer as a child, and she could not bring herself to sell it.

"It's good bones," Daniel said, repeating the phrase he always used when he wanted to keep going. He tapped the wall with his knuckle, then frowned. "Wait. Listen to this."