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I sat on the carpet. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I wondered out loud. The next envelope held what looked like a forged petition, Grandma’s signature copied and circled in red ink.

Detective Rios arrived and sat at Grandma’s kitchen table.

Jared’s envelope had a hand-drawn map of the side path between our fences. Arrows showed where someone could step without triggering the old porch light. In the margin she wrote, “They think I’m stupid. I’m not.”