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

The first take was too slow.

The second had a rough change between the last two chords.

I listened, adjusted my fingers, and began again.

From the doorway Marcus asked, “Want me to close up?”

“Leave the light on, Marcus.

I have one more take.”

He pulled the door shut without answering.

I watched the levels rise on the screen, then lowered the microphone a fraction.