After My Grandma’s Death, My Husband Rushed Me to Sell Her House — When I Learned the Reason, I Was Furious and Made Him Regret It

Her lips pressed into a tight line. “That’s not for me to tell. But your grandmother…

she wanted you to find out for yourself.”

I felt a strange chill crawl up my spine.

Paul had wandered back to the car, tapping on his phone.

I took a deep breath and turned to Mrs. Callahan. “Thank you.”

She gave a faint nod and walked away without another word.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the key in my palm.

Then I turned to Paul.

“Can you take the car and head home with the girls? I’ll call a cab later. I just…

I need a little more time.”

He looked up from his phone, frowning. “Mira, seriously?”

“I won’t be long.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but something in my face must have stopped him.

“Fine,” he muttered, brushing past me. “Don’t take all night.”

I watched him drive off, then turned back toward the house.

My hands trembled slightly as I climbed the staircase. The wood creaked under my weight, each step louder than I remembered.

At the top, I hesitated. The attic door was small, painted over several times, and the knob was slightly crooked.

I slid the key into the lock.

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