From Christmas and the Ward family. I haven’t spoken to any of them but my father and his brother David since that happened in 1986. None of them came downstairs to say “Hello” to me much less “Merry Christmas”. They had the entire Christmas party, and they all knew I was down there, and not a single one of them had the courage or the compassion to come downstairs and talk to me. Even just to ask me what the hell had happened in the first place. It still baffles me. How can entire group of people can suddenly turn on a family member for something that didn’t even affect them? Were there presents for me under the tree? The whole robbery reveal had only happened a few weeks before this. I guess my shrew of a grandmother had such a hold on everyone they were afraid to go against her. I hate her. I really hate all of them. My grandmother is still alive. I looked. I guess it takes a long time for a withered root to die.