I grabbed my canvas tote bag from the passenger seat and walked up the brick path.

The front door stood wide open to the crisp autumn air, held in place by a heavy brass doorstop.

Cardboard moving boxes lined the hallway, stacked three high against the floral wallpaper.

Pamela stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by four huge plastic bins.

She held up one of my grandmother’s embroidered wool sweaters and inspected the collar.

The smell of damp wool and old lavender sachets drifted into the entryway.