The room smelled of dust and old perfume. Inside was a white vanity, a silver hairbrush, a pale blue dress, and a carefully made bed.
It was Edith’s room.
His late wife’s room.
I turned to him.
“You brought me here on our wedding night to show me a shrine to your dead wife?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?”
“That I kept her instead of choosing you.”
I looked around the room.
“Didn’t you?”
“No,” he said. “You’re the reason I opened the door.”
On a shelf near the window, I saw baby shoes, a small clay handprint, and a yellowed card written in purple crayon.
To Daddy.
read more in next page
