I came home to my dad’s place after a year away. He was happy, but the bathroom sink barely worked—pipes clogged. I asked why he hadn’t fixed it; he just shrugged. When I tried, he stopped me without explaining. Weeks passed, brushing my teeth in the kitchen drove me crazy. So when he went out, I took the pipes apart—and was stunned when I found a small velvet pouch stuffed deep inside the U-bend.
It was soaked and slimy, but inside were three old, glittering rings. They looked expensive, like antique family heirlooms. My first thought was: why the hell would Dad hide these in the bathroom pipes? I laid them out on a towel, staring at them as my hands shook. When he came home and saw me holding them, he froze like I’d pulled a gun.
