Page 132 of Symphony for Lies

Shock hit me like a lightning bolt.

“I used the money to pay off the house.” She reached into the pocket where she always kept her crochet needles.“I want you to leave this place after I’m gone. Sell it. Start over.”

My throat tightened.

“The funeral is already arranged,” she continued gently. “I’ll be next to your grandfather.”Grandma smiled, but to me, nothing about the situation was sweet.

We had avoided the conversation for so long. But she was saying everything out loud, and it felt so final.

Layla’s grip remained a steadying anchor. Usually, she was emotional, but she stayed strong for me.

“You’ve always been such a good girl,” my grandmother said, her voice full of warmth. “Never asked for much. Always made do. You worked so hard to support us and sacrificed so much.”

Her words burrowed into my heart like embers, burning as they settled.“Grandma…”

“Amelia.” Her green eyes filled with a quiet plea. “Promise me that you’ll live your life.”

I tried to swallow down my grief.

“Promise me.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t enough for her.

“Say it.”

“I promise.”

She smiled, satisfied.“Good.” Clapping her hands, her energy dimmed but was still there. “Now, who wants to watch another movie?”

That night, Layla and I curled up in bed beside my grandmother as she told us a story about my grandfather.

It was a tale I had heard a hundred times before, but it sounded different.

Layla fell asleep first.

When my grandma noticed, she whispered, “I guess it’s time.”

I nodded weakly. “We should get some sleep.”

“That’s right.” Her hand found mine, squeezing it gently.“I love you, Amelia. Sleep well.”

I guided her hand to my lips and kissed her palm gently.“I love you too, Grandma.”

I nestled closer against her side, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing.

And then, I fell asleep.

The morning light was harsh as I blinked awake, stretching slightly.

I froze.

My grandmother lay still. Too still. A cold shock of ice rushed through my veins. I reached for her, my fingers brushing her hand. Her once warm skin was cold.

“Grandma?” I shook her shoulder gently.

No response.

“Grandma!” My voice cracked, rising in desperation.

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