He hesitated, shifting his weight nervously from one sock to the other.

“I got eleven hundred dollars in cash from a collector.”

My breath hitched in my throat as the financial reality slammed into my chest.

“That guitar cost your father and me twenty-one hundred dollars after taxes, and we sacrificed for nearly a year to save that money.”

“I know you did, Mom,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

“You gave away an irreplaceable family gift without consulting your parents,” I said firmly, struggling to balance compassion with discipline.

“Why didn’t you come to us so we could help Autumn together through proper channels?”