“I won’t,” I said.

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the heavy black receiver.

I immediately looked up the number for the local locksmith in town.

A man named Frank answered, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Frank’s Locks and Keys,” he said.

“Hello, I need to get my locks changed immediately,” I said.

“I have three external doors, all old brass mortise locks.”

“I can be there in twenty minutes,” Frank said.

“Thank you,” I said. “Please hurry.”

I walked back into the living room and looked around.

The space still felt crowded with Solene’s presence.

She had moved my grandmother’s hand-carved mahogany side tables into the hallway closet.

In their place, she had set up a pair of cheap, wire-rimmed utility shelves.

The shelves were piled high with her matching luggage and plastic storage bins.

I walked over to the first wire shelf and grabbed a stack of her designer hats.

I carried them to the front hallway and piled them near the door.

Next, I went into the dining room.

My grandmother’s lace tablecloth had been folded up and stuffed into a kitchen drawer.