My 13-Year-Old Sold His Guitar to Buy a Wheelchair for His Classmate—Then the Police Came to Our Door

“And apparently you were?”

“Yes.”

I rubbed my forehead.

“How much?”

Ethan hesitated.

“Eight hundred fifty.”

I stared.

“That guitar was worth more than that.”

“I asked twelve hundred.”

“Then why did you take eight-fifty?”

“Because it was enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“The chair.”

I looked at him.

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