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Linda cried the loudest at the funeral. Called herself “Mom’s favorite.” All while keeping the STOLEN ring in her pocket.
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I almost exposed her.
But something about that look Grandma gave me stopped me.
Forty-eight hours after her time of death, the doorbell rang.
Inside was a velvet pouch.
Courier. Signature required. Here I realized it was Grandma’s PLAN.
Linda smirked. “Mother always loved me best,” she whispered, hugging the box to her chest.
She tore it open in the living room with all of us watching.
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Inside was a velvet pouch.
And a letter.