I stood frozen in the driveway, watching Dad carefully lift the old metal toolbox from the back of his truck. It was the same battered red box that had sat untouched in the garage for as long as I could remember. Rust lined the edges, and one of the latches had been replaced with a piece of wire years ago.
Dad carried it toward the shed, glancing around as if he didn’t want anyone to notice.
But I noticed.
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