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Adam Mindichstein stood amid the silence that only a cemetery can offer in late autumn and watched the wind carry away the fallen leaves. He was fifty years old, and for the first time in many years, he was counting his debts rather than his profits. The funeral business, which had been his livelihood for half his life, was dying out. Fewer people were dying, competition was growing, and lately, the hospital morgue had come to resemble a museum of emptiness. One by one, he laid off his workers, and then finally the guard.
At the time, he did not know that his Mexican guard would leave him a farewell note and a crypto wallet.
Adam moved his belongings to the guard's small house near the morgue. The house was old but sturdy. Inside was a small fireplace, similar to those he had seen only once in his youth while traveling with a student team in Canada. In a dimly lit corner, a black tailcoat with a faint blue sheen hung on an old, antique coat rack. In the rays of the evening sun, it looked like something from a long-forgotten horror story.
There was almost no work. Bodies were rarely brought in, sometimes none at all in a week. One evening, while Adam was tidying up the wardrobe, the phone rang. A hoarse voice informed him that his former employee Carlos had died in a car accident. After a few signatures from Adam and some legal formalities, the body would be handed over to him for burial.
Carlos, a Mexican with a dark past, was quiet and reliable. Once, a long time ago, after a short interview, Adam hired the Mexican out of compassion. Later, he never regretted it. A former prisoner, released early, Carlos worked tirelessly and without asking questions.
The old tailcoat fit Carlos perfectly. When Adam last dressed the deceased, his fingers found something in a secret pocket. It was a cold crypto wallet and a folded piece of paper. Inside was a short message addressed to the guard, specifically to him, Adam Mindichstern. On the back was a seed phrase.
After the funeral, Adam sat at the table for a long time. Then he turned on his laptop and checked his account. The numbers on the screen seemed unreal. It was a real hidden treasure, a silent thank you from a man who always kept everything “inside.”
Adam smiled for the first time in many months. His dream no longer seemed unattainable. Thanks to Carlos, he would finally buy a small, comfortable house on the coast of Spain — far from the “thick” silence of morgues and shadows that slowly wander through cemeteries after sunset.
