My Family Complained When I Gave My Sister My Old Car Until She Demanded My New One

the pale rectangle on the wall where my photo frame had hung, that clean unfaded ghost of a shape, and my stomach dropped harder than it had in any hospital bed.

The frame was gone. Which meant the dresser under it was gone. Which meant the small wooden box on the dresser was gone.

My grandmother’s silver locket. Her letters, the ones she had written continue reading …