I needed a place no one would ever look. I thought of my Lolo's old tool shed in our backyard. It was filled with rusty gardening equipment and smelled of fertilizer and gasoline. Behind a stack of rotting burlap sacks, I pried up a loose floorboard. The space underneath was dark and smelled of damp earth. I wrapped Miguel's journal in a new layer of oilcloth, sealed it tight, and placed it in the hole, replacing the board and kicking dirt over it. It was buried. A secret for the earth to hold.
I didn't know where Leo hid his half. It was better that way. The weight of my secret was heavy enough.