They gave me something useful to do.

In the closet I discovered a box labeled CHLOE — SCHOOL.

Inside were watercolor landscapes, a ribbon from a debate contest, and a photograph of a younger Chloe standing outside a community hospital with a volunteer badge.

She had been sixteen, smiling as though the whole world might open to her.

I sat on the floor and stared at that girl until I could almost hear her voice.

Then I found her sketchbook.