I turned it face down and kept packing.

The top shelf held the blue glass pitcher.

I took it down, rinsed out the dust, and filled it with yellow chrysanthemums I had bought with my own money.

“You like those?” I asked Maya.

She kicked both feet and made a sound like a small hinge.

I slid the silver wedding band off my thumb and set it on the pile of photographs.

“That goes in the attic too,” I said.