You narrow your eyes at him. You consider interrogating him further but relent. You worry that he might get mad at you.
You look back at the painted-over window, fretting a bit. Your grandfather follows your gaze and stares beyond you at it even when you turn back to look at him again.
You ponder whether to steal the papers later. Will you do this?
Steal the goddamned papers. What's Grandpa hiding?
Don't steal them. Maybe he'll tell you later.