Chapter 4 - The StudyGrandpa motioned toward the hallway. "My study. Now."
His study smelled like old leather and cedar, a trace of tobacco still living in the books from years before he'd quit smoking. He set his phone on the desk. A map glowed on the screen — small lines tracing the SUV's movements over the past two weeks.
Brynn crossed her arms. "So? You tracked us?"
"I tracked my property until the title transfer finished."
He enlarged the map. Trips downtown. Shopping centers. Restaurants. A hotel nearly two hours away. Brynn's jaw tightened.
Then Grandpa tapped another location. A storage facility. Another — a pawn and antique dealer. Then the farmhouse.
Five visits. Not one.
"You told me you drove there yesterday to check on work," he said.
"I did."
"Then explain the other four."
Brynn glanced at Mom. Mom suddenly found the rug very interesting.
"What did you take from my farmhouse?" Grandpa asked, lowering his voice.
Nobody moved. My heart started pounding. "Take?" I said.
Grandpa didn't look at me. "A month ago I noticed several items missing. Your grandmother's silver. Two paintings. An antique jewelry box."
Brynn's expression collapsed. Mom stepped forward. "This is ridiculous."
Grandpa opened a drawer and pulled out printed photographs from a security camera. Brynn carrying boxes. Mom unlocking the farmhouse door.
My stomach dropped. "You were stealing from Grandpa?"
"We weren't stealing," Mom snapped.
"Then what do you call it?"
"Those things were going to be ours eventually!"
Grandpa leaned back like she'd struck him. Mom realized what she'd just admitted, a beat too late. Brynn burst into tears.
"You don't understand," she said. "Mom said you were going to leave everything to Amara anyway!"
I turned to Mom. "What?"
Her eyes flashed. "Don't act innocent."
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"I have no idea what she's talking about."
"Of course you don't. You never have to ask for anything. Grandpa just gives it to you."
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