"Love you," I say.
"Love you too." She's the first to hang up.
I toss the phone into the cup holder and grab the bag from the seat next to me and sling it over my shoulder as I get out of the car. I stride up the driveway and the real estate agent, Trudy, turns around, grinning with a set of gray teeth.
"Welcome back, William."
I clear my throat. "It's just Will."
"Oh, sorry about that. I'll just let you inside"
"I have a key. Listen, can we talk later? I'm late for work."
She blinks a few times but nods. "Sure thing. Let me just get you the paperwork and you fill it out at your leisure."
She run-walks down the driveway, her heels looking as if they were about to snap and leans through the open window of her car pulling out a large folder. "These are just the standard contracts," she says on the way back up the drive. "Just take a look at them and let me know if everything is okay?"
"Yes ma'am."
She beams. "How polite of you. Well I'll let you be on your way. My card is in there, call me with any questions."
"Sure."
She waves her long fingers at me and goes to her car.
I turn to the house and fight the urge to get back into the truck and get the hell out of here. I pull the single key from my pocket, the one that burned against my leg since Mabel handed it to me three days ago. I push it into the keyhole and turn. I allow the door to open in front of me, my feet planted to the ground. The door ricochets off the wall and starts to return, but I enter the house before I lose my nerve.
I bump the door closed with my foot. The air in the house is stale, lingering with the spicy scent of whiskey from that final night. I peer into the living room, which needs a serious cleaning. My nose wrinkles at the amount of dust on the fireplace mantel. I head into the kitchen and open the door to the basement. I don't need lights to find what I'm looking for, not that they work anyway. I find the electric panel and flip on the switches. The house hums to life. I take the steps two at a time and am back in the kitchen. The clock above the stove blinks 12:00. I check the time on my phone. I should leave soon.
I round the corner and take the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the two bedrooms on the right side of the hallway, and fling open the middle door on the left. My shoulders droop and my bag falls to the floor. My room is exactly how I left it. An outdated PC sits on the desk I made in wood shop, still unstained. A full-sized bed takes up most of the room. I make my way to the window, pushing aside the navy blue curtains that match the bedspread, revealing Hadley's bedroom window. My heart lurches at the thought of her. Soon enough I'll see her again.
A small bright orange piece of yarn still hangs from her sill, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking. At ten I thought it was the greatest idea to build a zip-line between our houses using Hadley's grandmother's knitting yarn.
I tear my eyes away from the window and let the curtain fall. I cross the room to the closet. I didn't take much the night I left. I grab a black t-shirt from the hanger and toss it on the bed, lifting the same one I'd worn for three days over my head. I pull on the black shirt and bring the fabric to my nose. Good enough.
I take a deep breath and leave the room. Here goes nothing.
About the Author
Katlyn Duncan was born and raised in a small town in western Massachusetts. Her overactive imagination involved invisible friends, wanting to be a Disney Princess and making up her own stories. Her bibliophile mom always encouraged her love of reading and that stayed with her since. Even though she works full time in the medical field Katlyn has always made time for books, whether she is reading or writing them.
Katlyn now lives in southern Connecticut with her husband and adorable Wheaten Terrier and she is thrilled to finally share her stories with the world.
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