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               "Grandma," said Roza impatiently. "I really think we need to get rid of this piano."
               "Julia!" Grandmother said, looking at me pleadingly.
               I sighed. "Roza, look, there's no reason to get rid of it right now!"
               My sister placed her hands on her hips. "Julia, look at this old thing!" She slapped the piano as Grandmother cringed. "It's falling apart. Probably all full of termites, too. Grandma, you don't even know how to play the piano, I don't see why you've kept it!"
               "But it was Howard's –"
               "Roza," I interjected. "Just let it be. The piano's not hurting anyone, is it?" I glared at her meaningfully. "Don't worry, Nanny. You can keep the piano as  long as you want."
               My sister rolled her eyes. "Good night."
               Grandmother turned to me, her eyes wet with tears. "Thank you, Julia, sweetheart."
               I  sighed. "I love you, Nanny."
               "I love you too. Thank you. For helping with Roza letting me keep the piano. I think only you can see how special this piano is, Julia."
               I nodded, wallowing in my cowardice.

               Later that evening, Roza strode into my room and planted herself on my bed. "Julia. She has to get rid of that piano, and you know it."
               I continued writing. "I don't see why."
               She grabbed my shoulder and turned me around in my chair. "It's unhealthy. I've heard you two talking. I know how she keeps getting up at two or three in the morning and supposedly sees Grandpa Howard playing at the piano. That's unhealthy."
               "If that's her way of coping, Roza..."
               "That's the problem!" Roza yelled. "She's not! She's not. She's not coping," she murmured.
               I stood angrily. "What's it to you, Roza? Since when are you so interested in Nanny's health?"
               "Julia, how ungrateful of you! She's taken care of us ever since we were little and you don't even want to worry about her health!"
               "Roza, if we took away the piano... You know what? You have no right to get rid of that piano. You have no right to force her to cope with this, because you know what? She'd fall into a depression, Roza, and she would come running into my arms and not yours. You wouldn't have to deal with her." I held back tears and sat silently.
               Roza stood at my window meditatively. "Maybe – maybe it's better for her not to cope. She's happier this way. We'll leave the piano be. And keep the dream alive. Hopefully this is the right choice..."
               "No. This is the right choice. For everyone," I assured us.

Description
               "Grandma," said Roza impatiently. "I really think we need to get rid of this piano."
               "Julia!" Grandmother said, looking at me pleadingly.
               I sighed. "Roza, look, there's no reason to get rid of it right now!"
               My sister placed her hands on her hips. "Julia, look at this old thing!" She slapped the piano as Grandmother cringed. "It's falling apart. Probably all full of termites, too. Grandma, you don't even know how to play the piano, I don't see why you've kept it!"
               "But it was Howard's –"
               "Roza," I interjected. "Just let it be. The piano's not hurting anyone, is it?" I glared at her meaningfully. "Don't worry, Nanny. You can keep the piano as  long as you want."
               My sister rolled her eyes. "Good night."
               Grandmother turned to me, her eyes wet with tears. "Thank you, Julia, sweetheart."
               I  sighed. "I love you, Nanny."
               "I love you too. Thank you. For helping with Roza letting me keep the piano. I think only you can see how special this piano is, Julia."
               I nodded, wallowing in my cowardice.

               Later that evening, Roza strode into my room and planted herself on my bed. "Julia. She has to get rid of that piano, and you know it."
               I continued writing. "I don't see why."
               She grabbed my shoulder and turned me around in my chair. "It's unhealthy. I've heard you two talking. I know how she keeps getting up at two or three in the morning and supposedly sees Grandpa Howard playing at the piano. That's unhealthy."
               "If that's her way of coping, Roza..."
               "That's the problem!" Roza yelled. "She's not! She's not. She's not coping," she murmured.
               I stood angrily. "What's it to you, Roza? Since when are you so interested in Nanny's health?"
               "Julia, how ungrateful of you! She's taken care of us ever since we were little and you don't even want to worry about her health!"
               "Roza, if we took away the piano... You know what? You have no right to get rid of that piano. You have no right to force her to cope with this, because you know what? She'd fall into a depression, Roza, and she would come running into my arms and not yours. You wouldn't have to deal with her." I held back tears and sat silently.
               Roza stood at my window meditatively. "Maybe – maybe it's better for her not to cope. She's happier this way. We'll leave the piano be. And keep the dream alive. Hopefully this is the right choice..."
               "No. This is the right choice. For everyone," I assured us.