I called Marcus, my hands shaking.
When I asked him where my father’s tools were, he said, “Relax, I sold a few pieces to a collector who came to the party. Vintage tools go for a fortune to the right buyer, Nora. I figured I’d split the money with you as a thank-you.”
I reminded him he had promised not to touch any of it.
He laughed.
“They’re just tools. You can buy new ones. I turned that dusty old shed into something people actually wanted to be in for
