The Case of the Missing Coin, Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Oliver who loved collecting coins.

He had coins from many places — shiny ones, old ones, and even a few that were more than 100 years old. He kept them all in a blue coin album on the shelf beside his bed.

But his favorite coin was special. It was a golden coin his grandfather had given him. “It’s lucky,” his grandfather had said. “Take care of it.”

Oliver always kept it in the very first slot of the album.

One morning before school, Oliver opened the album to look at his coins. He liked doing that. But when he opened it, his heart dropped. The first slot was empty. The golden coin was gone.

Oliver blinked. He flipped through every page.

Silver coins.

Copper coins.

Old coins.

But not the golden one.

“Mom!” he called. “Did you move my coin?”

“Nope!” she said from the kitchen.

Oliver checked his desk.

His backpack.

Under the bed.

Nothing.

Then he noticed something strange. The album was open in front of the window. And on the windowsill…

There was a tiny trail of dirt.

And right in the middle of the dirt…

A tiny footprint.

Not a human footprint. It was small. Really small. Almost like… A tiny shoe.

Oliver leaned closer. And just then—He heard a clink. Like a coin hitting the floor. But it didn’t come from his room. It came from inside the wall.