Now, those things felt like objects belonging to a girl I had never met.
The silence of the house was heavy, the kind of quiet that feels like a weight on your chest.
I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket up to my chin. The fabric was stiff, smelling of the lavender soap Eleanor bought in town.
I thought of the small black velvet box in Ben’s pocket, and the way Rosie had bounced on her heels when she saw it. She had looked so certain of him, so entirely sure that the world was a place that would keep its promises.
I turned my face into the center of the pillow, the fabric dampening against my cheek.
Clara burying her face in her pillow as the rain starts to hit the window pane.
The morning light was thin and grey when I walked over to the yellow house. A light mist still hung over the grass, dampening the dry oak leaves that had fallen along the edge of the gravel driveway. I found Rosie in her bedroom, surrounded by three large cardboard boxes that she had dragged from the hallway closet. She was sorting through her clothes, pulling out old sweaters and stacking them on her bed.
On the windowsill sat her green metal watering can, its long spout pointing toward a small pot of geraniums that had stopped blooming weeks ago. Rosie loved that watering can. She had carried it from our parents’ house when she moved, treating it like a prize.
“We need to make space,” Rosie said, her voice slow and clear. “Ben says my closet is too full of winter clothes.”
“Ben is probably right,” I said, reaching into the bottom of her wardrobe to help. “You still have sweaters from high school in here.”
I helped Rosie fold a pair of corduroy trousers that were worn thin at the knees.
“These are too short,” I said. “We should donate them.”
“Ben likes the green ones,” Rosie said, pointing to a pair of olive chinos draped over the wooden chair. “He says they make me look like a gardener.”
I kept my hands busy, reaching deeper into the dark corners of her closet. My fingers hit the edge of a sturdy cardboard box, and when I pulled it forward, a smaller object slipped out and landed with a soft thud on the floorboards. It was a small ledger bound in black cloth. The cover was clean, without a single speck of dust.
