The page trembled in my father’s hand as Grandma stood calmly across from him, with the brand-new pool humming behind us. “What is this?” Dad asked, his face suddenly pale. Grandma simply looked at him and replied, “You know exactly what it is.” Six weeks earlier, I had discovered that my eleven-year-old daughter Lucy’s antique cello was missing. The stand was still there, but the instrument had disappeared. When I asked my parents what happened, Dad casually told me they had sold it.
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