Grandpa's Keys

Gramps listened. Whispers drifted from the other room, threatening to put him away. Who were these strangers in his home? 

He stumbled into the living room, raising his cane. “Get out of here!”

“Grandpa, don’t do this.” A fat tear ran down twelve-year-old Monica’s cheek.

He shunned her. “That’s it! I’m leaving.” He fished through his pockets. “What have you done with my keys?”

Monica darted past him and opened the fridge. “They're right here, grandpa, where you put them.”