“I have it,” I said.

“She was a proud woman,” Arthur said.

“She understood that some things remain inside a house.

She would expect you to remember your obligations to the people who raised you.”

I did not answer him.

My eyes drifted to the bed of his truck.

A large silver metal storage box was bolted directly behind the cab, secured with a heavy steel padlock.

The metal latch on the storage box was gleaming, completely free of the road dust that covered the rest of the truck bed.