like someone handing me a parking ticket.
Inside were several changes of clothes, two paperbacks, some old college notebooks, and the cedar chest Grandpa had made for me when I was ten.
He had planed the wood himself, sanded it until the grain felt like silk, and carved my initials into the lid.
Inside it, I had kept pencils, old report cards, and a photograph of Grandpa and me at the county fair.
Linda’s voice stayed sweet.
“The house is part of the estate now. Robert and I are handling