“I… I didn’t mean to scare anyone,” he murmured.
Larissa was still shaking.
“You said this room hadn’t changed,” she whispered to him. “But I didn’t know… I didn’t know all of this was still here.”
My sister stepped forward and picked up one of the photographs from the floor.
It was an old picture of our mother.
Young. Smiling. Standing in that same bedroom beside my father decades earlier.
But that wasn’t what had scared Larissa.
It was the box.
The old wooden box that had been hidden in the back of my parents’ closet for as long as we could remember.
My father sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.
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