And I documented everything — every conversation, every voicemail, every message.

I did not have to work hard for that last part, because my family, believing they had already won, could not stop talking.

My father left a message ordering me out of “his” house by the weekend.

My mother called demanding I hand over the music box, which she had somehow intuited mattered, without understanding why.

And Chloe — Chloe sent a voice memo, and I have listened to it more times than I should admit, because it is such a perfect specimen.

“Don’t go getting sentimental, Genevieve,” she said, laughing.