My Dad Started Charging Me $250 a Month for My Room When I Turned 18 — Five Years Later, After His Funeral, His Best Friend Handed Me a Box

In the unit I plugged the black guitar into the amplifier.

The hiss came first, then a low hum.

I played three chords.

Marcus said it sounded better than the last time he had heard me play.

I asked whether I had to keep everything the way Frank left it.

Marcus said Frank had made him promise not to decide for me.

He could tell me what Frank wanted.

He could not tell me what I should want.