“I don’t know, Blake—it seems a violation somehow. I mean, just think—your Grandma Eileen tied up her secrets in this violet ribbon, putting them to rest. It doesn’t seem right we should pry them open just to satisfy our curiosity.”
I shrugged. She was right—as always. I hugged her tight.
“Put them back for now. We’ll think about it.”
She nodded, but neither of us stirred.
We sat there in a kind of spell, watching dust motes in a shaft of sunlight, as if the atoms of a far older scene were suspended in that beam.
On the drive home, we decided to keep the house.
