My Parents Sent a Moving Truck to Claim Grandpa’s House—But the Brass Key He Left Me Led to a Deed They Never Expected

“Lily, stop making everything difficult.”

Then she left.

I stood alone in the kitchen.

The sandwiches were still on the table.

Arthur’s photograph leaned against the wall.

The conversation about starting over seemed distant now.

I couldn’t tell whether Linda had intended to mislead me.

Perhaps she’d convinced herself that planning a move was practical.