Chapter 3 Grandma's warning

Perfect! Here's Chapter Three of The Family Treasure Trove-about 1000 words, continuing Lina and Sammy's adventure as the mystery deepens:

Chapter Three: Grandma's Warning

The tunnel swallowed them whole.

Cool, damp air clung to their skin as Lina led the way with a flickering flashlight. The walls were made of compacted earth and stone, reinforced with wooden beams that groaned quietly under the weight of time. It felt less like a tunnel and more like a passageway carved by hands that had long since returned to dust.

"Do you think Grandpa dug this himself?" Sammy asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know," Lina replied, eyes scanning the tunnel. "But someone built this for a reason."

As they walked, the journal tucked in Lina's bag began to feel heavier-almost humming, like it knew they were getting closer. After what felt like twenty minutes, the tunnel opened into a small circular chamber lit faintly by light seeping in through cracks above.

At the center of the room stood a stone pedestal. Upon it sat an object covered in dark green cloth.

Lina stepped forward cautiously and pulled the cloth away.

Beneath it was a carved wooden bowl filled with strange tokens-stones with symbols, dried herbs, a tiny compass, and what looked like a coiled feather.

Sammy picked up one of the stones. "It's warm."

Lina nodded. "This isn't just treasure-it's something sacred."

Suddenly, a sound echoed behind them.

Footsteps.

Lina grabbed Sammy's hand and turned off the flashlight. They held their breath as a shadow passed across the tunnel entrance.

But it didn't enter. After a moment, it was gone.

Sammy whispered, "Was that Bibi?"

"No," Lina whispered. "She'd never follow us in silence."

They waited a few more moments, then crept back through the tunnel, hearts racing.

When they emerged into the cool night air, the stars had risen high. Fireflies blinked in the grass. The baobab stood quiet, guarding its secrets once again.

But standing by the porch, arms folded, was Grandma Zawadi.

Her expression was calm, but her eyes held storms.

"I see the old tree still whispers," she said.

Lina and Sammy froze.

"How did you-?"

"I told you," she said, voice low but firm, "this was not meant to be found so soon."

She turned and walked inside.

They followed her silently to the sitting room, where a pot of tea steamed on the table. She poured three cups, sat down, and stared at them across the rim of her mug.

"You found the key, didn't you?"

Lina nodded, slowly placing it on the table.

Zawadi sighed. "Your grandfather was a stubborn man. He believed in tests. He believed that wisdom was earned, not given."

She paused, then looked at Lina. "He left the first clue for you. Not your mother. Not Baraka. You."

"But why me?" Lina asked. "I'm just...a kid."

"No," Zawadi said. "You are a bridge. Between past and future. You're curious, but grounded. You listen."

She sipped her tea, then leaned back in her chair. The candlelight caught the deep lines in her face, making her look ancient and powerful.

"There is a story passed down in our family, older than this house, older even than the village