So whatever they were looking for was something flat that could be hidden in a book? A logical conclusion, he thought, as he packed them into the bag—although not necessarily the correct one.
Taking the second bag, he went down to what had been his mother’s bedroom. There wasn’t much he wanted from there—the scrapbooks she’d made containing the story of their lives before they’d moved down to the city, and the family photos hanging on the walls. He paused as he took them down, looking at the one of the four of them, taken a month before his father had died. They were standing in front of the house, his parents in the center, arms around each other, with Reko and Mika on either side.
If you had been more careful we’d still be living there, not down here. One misstep and…He clenched his hands. I miss you. We all do…did. He felt his eyes tear up and wiped away one that crept down his cheek.