Page 143 of Becoming Us
“Are all our things there already?”
“No, don’t be silly. We needed a fresh start. I gave everything away—the whole apartment is new!” she said, practically glowing with excitement.
A chill crept up my spine. “What did you give away?”
“Everything.”
I stepped out of the room—slow at first, then faster—as I passed each doorway and saw the absence staring back at me. Ilana’s room: empty. The office: cleared out. My room: gone. I broke into a run down the hall until I reached my parents’ bedroom—and stopped cold.
Empty.
There used to be books in here. Records. His guitars—the ones he used to play, the ones he collected. All of it, gone.
“Where are his things?” My voice cracked.
“I told you, Noah. We’re starting fresh?—”
“What did you do with his things?” I demanded, louder now.
“Noah…” There was a warning note in her voice.
I shoved past her and yanked open the closet. Empty.
“His clothes?”
“We didn’t need to keep those,” she said airily.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, but all I could smell was her overpowering floral perfume. No hint of him. There was no trace of him anywhere.
I stormed past her again.
“Noah!”
I didn’t stop until I reached the office. My stomach twisted at the sight of the blank walls and empty shelves. No desk. No stereo. No old-man cologne lingering in the air.
I dropped to my knees in front of the built-in shelves and flung open the panel hiding the safe. My fingers shook as I punched in the code. Relief surged through my chest when the door clicked open.
It was still there.
The little black box.
I opened it, breath catching as I ran a trembling finger over the worn edge of the medallion.
One thing. I still had one thing.
She couldn’t erase you. Not really.
I fastened the chain around my neck, closed my eyes, and pressed the medallion to my lips.
I miss you, Dad. So fucking much.
“I also needed you to open that. Can you hand me the papers?”
It was the tone in her voice that did it. Like nothing had happened.
She was standing right behind me. I knew she could see what I was doing. I knew if she looked close enough, she could see the tear trickling down my cheek.
But she didn’t give a fuck, did she?
