Chapter 12: The Drawer

On Sunday night Crispin left for his shift at seven, and Hattie went home with my mother at six.

I had Hattie's birthday card to finish.

Her party was on Halloween, a week from Saturday, and my mother had sent me the invitation as a photo with no message.

I had a plan for the card.

I wanted to draw the fort on the front, with all three of us in front of it, and write a joke inside.

But the only pen in Grandma's apartment had dried up, and the markers were in a box I hadn't unpacked.

Crispin's apartment was three floors up, and I had his key.

I told myself I wasn't snooping.

His place was quiet without him.

The lamp with the green shade was still on, and the bed was made.

His badge holder lay on the desk by the window with Hattie's drawing still in it.

He had left in a hurry and forgotten it.

The desk was small and old, with a single drawer, and I opened it expecting rubber bands and pens.

There were pens.

There was also a gray accordion folder, stuffed full, with a rubber band around it.

The label on the front said L.

I stood there for a moment with my hand on the drawer.

He had a folder with my initial on it.

It could be anything.

It could be the lease, or Grandma's receipts, or the letter he had told me my mother kept.

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