When we reached Grandma’s house, my parents’ cars were already in the driveway. Through the front window, we could see drawers open and boxes spread across the dining-room table. Grandma stayed in the car while I called local police. When officers arrived, she unlocked the door herself. Dad immediately claimed they were “organizing things for her move,” but Grandma pointed toward the damaged filing cabinet and asked one question: “Then why were you looking for my deed?”
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