Chapter 3

So I run up the stairs all the way to the third floor and open the window in the guestroom, the room Nana always referred to as mine. I bring a set of sheets with me downstairs and throw them into the washing machine.

As the machine starts the cycle, I jog out to the car I’d parked on the street too eager to finally see the house again to have the patience to park it properly in the garage hidden away behind the house, so it won’t “ruin the esthetics”—Nana’s words, not mine. After the car is safely tucked away, I carry my things inside.

I’d sold most of my stuff before I’d moved back to town after Nana’s death, and what I kept is crammed into the tiny room I’ve been renting from my boss, Margot. Today, I brought only necessities: clean clothes, toiletries, and groceries to tide me over a few days.

When my suitcase is put away in the guest room, I return to the kitchen to take care of the food before it perishes.