The silver railing was cold in the palm of my hand, and yet I clenched it tightly. The bus swayed from side to side violently as it inched up the steep incline of a hill. We were almost in the designated spot, a particular stretch of levelled ground with a dusty patch of earth that I often marked as the spot for the bus to pull over. There was a new driver today, an old man with a flat cap and thick grey whiskers that were most unkempt. Frequently he would look over his shoulder, waiting for further instructions from me. It was nice of him to go out of his way just to appease me, especially since he was unfamiliar with this bus route.

“Just a little more?” he asked in a rather high-pitched voice. His fingers pinched the brim of his hat to pull it downwards.

“Just about.”

He looked over his shoulders yet again, but this time his stare was hard and inquisitive-like. “So, what are you doing up here?”

“I work at the house there,” I tiredly explained. “At the top of the hill.”

“Not in that old house?” he questioned me with an obvious strain to his voice. “The one next to the cliffs?”

“Yes, that is the very one.”

“No,” he drawled out slowly, with a hint of worry tethering in his deep voice. “You have got to be kidding me!” I boldly stepped forward, enough to bring myself beside the bus driver. His gaze was hard upon the road as he drove the bus over the last part of the steep hill, and yet, his black eyes were filled with pain that was beyond my comprehension. “You don’t say,” he muttered from the corner of his mouth. Dark lines began to form over his forehead, while his greying brows lowered themselves worriedly over the hoods of his eyes. “Good heavens.”

“We’re here,” I muttered with some regret. The bus gradually came to a stop; the front wheels slid across the muddy patch of dirt that still had large pools of water floating over it. The bus driver moved forward to pull at a mechanism, which immediately made the set of doors swing open widely. I took a good long look outside, observing the dewiness of the green grass with clear water droplets crystallizing its tips. The air was fresh, an unmistakable scent after a long night of a steady downpour. I inhaled the air deeply, while pondering over the bus driver’s reaction. A quick glance over my shoulder made me realize that he had been watching me, and that cruel dip of his dry lips proved his thoughts had steered in that direction as well.

“You be careful there,” he warned. Lips pursed tightly until a straight line was formed over the lower half of his face. I nodded my head at him in understanding, and then took a step downwards to depart from the bus completely.

“Thank you!” I shouted over my shoulder.

“May God help you,” was promptly answered back.

I turned around to face the driver, seeing the way he was clutching the curved black handle that controlled the doors of his old bus. He nodded his head sternly at me, though its meaning was lost to me, and then he shut the doors abruptly so he could speed away.

“Sela?” broke through my thoughts. The front door had been open moments ago, but I was still standing outside of Teddy’s household. “You look unwell.”

Teddy was wearing a sky-blue dress shirt today, crisp and freshly ironed. A rather dark charcoal blue sweater vest fit snugly over his broad chest, and accented well against the lightness of his creamy white trousers. His apparel informed me that he had no intention to work out in the garden with me today. The front door was pushed open wider, and then Teddy took the liberty of stepping over his threshold to bring himself closer to me.

“Sela,” he hushed with concern, before he unknowingly laid his hand on the side of my arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I just had trouble sleeping, that’s all.”

“It rained all night for you as well,” he observed. “I had the same issue. The house comes alive at night when it rains that hard.”

“Alive?”

He leaned forward and with a teasing look about him, Teddy whispered, “Alive with sounds.” He squinted at me playfully before he let out a low chuckle. “But not enough to irritate my nerves. Come! It is a beautiful day, but you should come inside all the same.” His hand fell off the side of my arm, and without looking back he stepped into his household.

I took my time removing my light spring coat, a much darker hue than the one I wore yesterday. Teddy was right in his assumption that we would have lovely weather today, so why did the morning make me feel so fearful and uneasy? My eyes were focused on the floor and then the walls, but it could not fall under the enchanting spell of Teddy Woven.

“You need tea,” he coldly remarked, after the silence was too much for him. “Or coffee?”

“I need a strong cup of coffee,” I said, before I stepped past the master of the house to get to the kitchen myself. My white socks slid across the smooth surface of his hardwood floor, barely making a sound because I was so light and small in stature. I could hear the hush slippers of Teddy’s close behind me, and it wasn’t long before he overtook me and entered the kitchen area first. The table was fully set for me, prepared in every manner. He instinctively pulled out a chair, and gestured with his hand that I may take a seat.

“Thank you,” I said with some level of discomfort before I sat down on the wooden chair. Luna was nowhere to be found, and with that uneasy thought I quickly looked around for her. Teddy had his back to me, preparing the last of the coffee that was hot and ready to pour.

The windows were wide open; curtains pushed back to show the expansiveness of the garden. It would be a wet work day, considering the dampness of the grass and flowerbeds, but I would have to make do.

“I thought,” Teddy began in a stilted voice. “You might want to go to my art room.” His hand gripped the coffee pot tightly after he made this statement. “To see my work.”

“Oh?”

“It would be nice to hear your opinion on it,” Teddy added with his back to me. “There is nothing worse than overthinking things. A natural characteristic for every artist. Well, that and being your own worst critic.” He looked over his shoulder to make eye contact with me. “But I think I grew out of that stage by now.”

“I would love to see your work.”

He brought over the two piping cups of coffee, laying my mug down in front of me in a graceful manner. “But you couldn’t stay there for long, of course,” he added in a strange sort of way. “You have work to do.”

I nodded my head at him while maintaining the intended eye contact. “Yes.”

Teddy deliberately broke our lengthy gaze and let his fingers timidly rub the side of his mug. His behaviour was peculiar today, most puzzling. Yesterday evening there was a sudden boldness to him, but now Teddy was like an animal that had been tamed and neutered. There was something on his mind - a worry that could not be expressed in words.

“Do you have anything to eat?” I softly inquired, hoping it would not break him away from his thoughts too severely. “Muffins?”

“No,” Teddy curtly replied. “Something different today.”

“Different?”

“No muffins,” he exclaimed with more merriness this time. “Quiche.”

“You cooked?”

“I did.” He pushed his chair back with energy, determined to reveal this surprise that he brought a shadow of a smile to his face. The oven was thrust open, and soon enough he was carrying out a small pan that brought an alluring aroma throughout the room.

I leaned back in my chair with astonishment as I uttered: “This is really sweet of you, Teddy.”

“Uh huh.”

The egg quiche was placed upon my plate, a large piece that would fill me up for the rest of the morning. A long meow struck the air, a good sign that Luna had just entered the room. She was rubbing the side of her body against the door ledge, while her eyes squinted happily at me. Things were beginning to feel normal again, so I took up my cutlery and gladly took my first bite. Teddy was eating his breakfast quietly beside me, occasionally taking long sips of his coffee with an air of satisfaction.

“Do you want anymore?” he inquired, before I had even finished my first slice.

“Not yet.”

“Coffee?”

“I guess I can have a top up. Oh, not too much! I would have to come here a lot to use the bathroom.” He chuckled softly while pouring a new cup nearly to the rim. “This is really lovely,” I added. “You didn’t need to do-”

“-Sela,” he warned in an unusual strict tone of voice.

“But I appreciate it,” I added with some hesitation. “Teddy?”

“Yes.”

“Well…”

He lowered his fork with some concern. “What?” he asked with some alarm.

“You have been so good to me,” I softly replied. “I just… I feel like…”

He reached his hand forward, almost wanting to touch me. At the last second he dropped it down beside my left hand, leaving enough room to show he meant me no harm. Luna pounced upwards to be on top of the kitchen table, her head moving in all directions as she quietly took in her surroundings.

“Sela,” broke the long silence. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“You knew…” I closed my eyes sorrowfully. “That I was going to say that to you.”

“You don’t like asking for help, do you?” He dragged his hand down the table until it could return to his lap. “Sometimes we have to learn to ask people for help. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I guess.”

Teddy reached for his mug and took a few sips of his coffee. The silence was done on purpose on his end, forcing me to rethink my answer.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I found myself saying. “You are good to me and…” My voice was lost at that moment because of the pure strength of his gaze. “I…” My teeth clenched together, knowing that my body was responding to the look in his eyes. My left hand balled up tightly together, but not before my fingernails lightly carved against the wood. “I forgot what I was trying to tell you,” I breathed out quickly. “Ummm.”

“Eat your food, Sela,” he lightly chuckled. The mug was used to cover his smug smile, and I hated him for it.

“Okay,” I softly replied. “I… sure.”

His chuckle was unmistakable then, for he knew he had me truly. There were a lot of things I could resist, but that heated stare was not one of them.

I crossed my legs tightly, but it didn’t make quite a difference. A hush curse escaped my breath, but it was so faint that Teddy could scarcely make it out. His attention was more focused on Luna, so at least I had time to regain some composure.

The house was silent all around us, a faint whistling of a breeze could seldom be heard on a rare occasion. It would be a warm spring day on all accounts, a good sign that it would dry up the plant life and grass by mid-afternoon.

“By the way,” Teddy prompted up. “I received an email from Daphne. She will return to work by Monday.”

“Oh, she contacted you?” I asked with disbelief, for she had been most silent on my end.

“A mere sentence with her name written at the bottom,” the man beside me slowly drawled.

“She is stressed.”

“Understandably.” He looked down at his mug. “It would be hard.”

“I guess that means less hours for me,” I surmised. “My back will thank me, but…”

Teddy leaned forward in his chair and brought an arm upwards to support his head. The right side of his cheekbone shined brightly in the morning sunlight at that particular angle; his rosy pink lips looked more enticing than I remembered.

I tapped my fingers against the edge of the table anxiously. My thoughts had once again left me, and he hardly did anything to instigate this uncanny behaviour.

“You were saying something about your back.”

I leaned forward in my chair and let out a short sigh. “Forgive me.”

“You need to take it easy today,” he suggested. “That’s the second time now.”

“I think I need fresh air.”

“My windows are wide open,” he noted, without ever having to look in that direction. “You need something else.”

I licked my top lip quickly, an act of betrayal. My eyes darted towards the open doorway of the kitchen; a fear had suddenly seized me and now I wanted to flee from that very spot. To have any feelings for this man would spell my doom. “Excuse me,” I huffed out, before I bolted from the chair and strode quickly over to the doorway. I could hear Teddy’s chair scrape backwards in alarm, probably getting to his feet. I quickly jogged to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Nerves overwhelmed me to the point that I could feel the erratic beating of my heart. “What is wrong with me?” I whispered aloud. “What on earth is going on?”

I turned towards the mirror, catching sight of my reflection. My hair was tied up neatly today, and my face was clean and youthful from a good night’s rest. It was my eyes that betrayed my true emotions: worry, nervousness and a sense of alarm rested in my dark orbs. There was a strange foreboding all around me, a hush whisper that could barely be detected by my ears to leave the master of this house alone.

A soft knocking on the door took me by surprise. “Sela? I just wanted to know if you are okay.”

I turned around and placed my hand over the doorknob. The door creaked open, and with a thick swallowing I was finally able to meet his gaze. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I should go outside,” I mumbled. “And start to garden.”

“Yes,” he agreed with me quickly enough. “But you have to finish the rest of your meal.” The corner of his lip quirked upwards. “Or else Luna will get to it first.”

“She wouldn’t!” I exclaimed with disbelief.

“She was once a stray,” he reminded me. “She’ll eat anything.” Teddy’s hand pushed hard upon the door to force it open, leaving every inch of the bathroom exposed to his view. He looked at me up and down slowly, and then quickly turned away in a hurried manner. My feet gravitated out of the bathroom, but I unconsciously looked to the left at the closed doorway that was the only means of escape. A curious feeling came over me, so I turned my head sharply to the right to see the unfinished staircase that led upstairs. You could tell the upper levels of the staircase were old and worn out. There was something off about that part of the house, where looming shadows as dark as night seemed to quiver my very soul.

Luna made a small meow, urging me to join her in the kitchen. Her master was not far behind, subtly watching me from around the pale white wood of the doorway. Bravely I stepped forward, allowing my fingers to lightly rub against the left side of the hallway wall. I stopped over the archway, still feeling that heated gaze from him. My body was starting to respond to him, but I forced that thought away and bent down to pet the back of Luna’s ear. She purred instinctively, loud enough for Teddy to hear. He abandoned his post to clear away his dishes.

“Hello Luna,” I whispered. She was brought upwards to rest in front of my chest, cuddled like a small babe that had just been born. She was sweet and innocent, and I found myself being drawn to her immensely.

My right hand drew out my chair and I happily took a seat. She was the cure I needed to calm myself down, a welcome distraction from the lustful look that continually escaped Teddy’s eyes. I suppose it was unintentional, but this morning it had increased more than ever before. A lot can be said in a person’s eyes and looks, and Teddy’s was most telling.

Luna soon grew bored of me and wanted to be put down. I had no choice but to lay her down on the kitchen floor and watch her small paws pad their way towards her master.

While I was eating I could hear him speaking to Luna. “Hello, little Missy,” he affectionately cooed. “You missed me?”

I glanced upwards to see he was just drying off his hands with a dish cloth. His whole attention was on this small creature, completely forgetting I was still in the room with him.

“You’re going outside today?” he continued, before he bent his knees and reached for his cat. “Or are you going to spend the day with me again?” His dark brown eyes searched out her pale blue ones, and once they connected a warm smile spread across his face. “I know you like Sela too.” A happy laughter escaped him before he averted his gaze from his cat towards me. “I’m speaking to her aloud. Forgive me. I am used to living alone.”

“I’ve heard it is normal to speak to your pets.”

“Yes, but…” he looked down at Luna with something of a smile. “She’s my only friend.”

“Now, you have another one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Teddy,” I confirmed for him. “I am done with my food now.” He watched me rise up from my chair with a surprised look to him. “Please move so I may wash my dishes.” He moved to the right, allowing me enough space to place the dishes down in the sink. I could feel him staring at me again, examining my side profile as I soaked the water upon the pure white plate. Luna squirmed in his arms, forcing him to place her upon the kitchen floor. He never moved when I reached behind him to obtain the kitchen towel, probably enjoying the closeness of our bodies. “Anyone tell you that…” His gaze strengthened two-fold. “You have a certain look to your eyes.”

“What kind of look?”

“I can’t describe it.”

He blinked slowly, and then finally dropped his eyes from mine. I laid the dish towel down on the edge of the countertop; Teddy was quick to retrieve it and fold it neatly to his liking. His quirky mannerisms were exhibited once again, an uncontrollable side to him that Teddy had trouble hiding. “I like it neat,” he said as an excuse. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No.”

His head jerked backwards, for he was puzzled by my answer.

“No, you never offended me.”

He looked down at my lips, and I could see the strain to his jawline since we were standing so close together. A sharp gust of air escaped his partially open lips, and then he suddenly looked over his shoulder as though we were being watched. “We should go,” he said as a way of command. He left the spot as quickly as he could, abandoning a crumbled dish towel over the countertop in the process.

“I specialize in landscape paintings.” The canvas was brought upwards, braced hard against his chest because of the weight and sheer size of it. “I live along the English coast.” He shrugged his shoulders, but it looked amusing when his arms were spread so far apart. “I thought I might as well make a living out of it.”

“People would kill for a house like this.”

His face darkened substantially, a dangerous pulse of anger ignited in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“It’s- it’s,” I stammered out nervously. “An expression. Slang.”

He lowered his painting, which brought a wave of sadness to me. I stepped forward to stretch out my hand. “I like how you added the wildflowers in the foreground. Red campions,” I pointed out with my finger hovering over the canvas. The man in front of me nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, and there is…” I tilted my head with a mischievous smile. “White bluebells! Weren’t you worried it would blend in with the white foam of the sea along the coast line?”

“Never even entered my mind.”

I stepped forward even more, until I was right on top of him and the painted canvas. “It looks nice at dawn.”

“It looks nice at any time,” he relayed in almost a hush. “I could take you there, if you don’t object.”

“It’s right outside,” I noted. “Ah, but I have work to do.” His smirk grew wider, for Teddy knew that I was toying with him. “Another time then.”

“I could show you the exact spot where I painted this,” he said with utter pride. The canvas was lowered swiftly, and then he moved backwards to take up another one. This painting was very similar though it was taken at a different angle, and on a cold foggy day. “This one has trouble selling. I enjoy these sort of days, but my clients don’t.”

“Why not?”

“They want happy scenes,” he softly bemoaned. “Scenes of bright sun-lit seas and swathes of lush greenery. Yes, there are those days,” he admitted. “But you cannot have light without the darkness.” He brought the painting closer to me, displaying the sheer rage of the sea that crashed harshly against the ghostly grey rocks. From the precipice you could see the looming shadows and misty fog that added more dimension to his painting. There was life to this image, but as Teddy noted it was not a painting for everyone. “But I must find some way to pay the bills,” he said in a dejected voice. “And so, I paint scenes of beauty… or what some may say joy.” The canvas lowered over his lap, exposing the deep heaving of his chest. “But what do you think?”

“I like them both.”

“Which one do you prefer more?”

“Well, the first one made me want to travel to that exact destination. To see it with my own eyes. It is the kind of painting that you would like to put up on a wall.”

Teddy turned around to lower his painting to the ground, somewhere close to Luna where she was silently roaming. “And not the other?”

“I wasn’t finished,” I quipped with a beguiling smile. Teddy turned around to face me, slipping his hands deep inside of his trouser pockets. “I think the second one reflects you more. We all have inner turmoil inside of us.”

“Yes.”

“And you are right,” I assented with a sort of forcefulness to my voice and physical gestures. “We can’t have light without the darkness.”

“But we can’t let the darkness consume us either.”

“I agree.”

He stepped forward, bringing his chest nearly against my own. His hands were still in his trouser pockets, which was a safety indicator for I had the sense that he wanted to touch me. He bit down on the corner of his lips while he looked down at me, making me feel the stark difference in our height. There was that look again, increasing by the second since we were in such close proximity to each other.

“You are very talented,” I hushed out softly, a vain effort to not break the natural silence of the house. “I think you chose a career that suits you.”

He cleared his throat with purpose. “I’d like to say the same thing about you.”

“Even though I am not out there gardening,” I nervously giggled.

“Are you free Saturday?” he spoke out quickly. “Please say yes.”

“I might be,” I lied. “Well…”

“Sela,” he said with more determination, but just then we heard a harsh hissing of Luna that spelled disaster. I looked to the open doorway and saw nothing, but the manner of Teddy had suddenly changed. He stormed towards the doorway and looked left and right at the empty hallway. His mannerism grew stiff; his left foot prodded Luna away from the doorway so he could shut it completely. He held his hand over the top of the heavy door with some forcefulness once it was fully closed; a long sigh struck the air added with the faint hissing of Luna that was as sharp as ever. Teddy patted his fingertips against the door in a strange rhythm. “I must leave this place,” he muttered to himself.

I was motionless next to his painting of a stormy day, not wanting to disturb him when my nerves were so frazzled. The darkness of the house seemed to loom over me, clutching like an unseen hand with long tendril-like fingers around my throat. I could not feel this sensation physically, but my spirit quivered at the queer feeling of it.

Teddy approached me slowly, probably aware that I was not looking in his direction. The wind howled throughout the house, particularly down the hallway where Teddy had just shut the door. “Sela.”

I blinked harshly, feeling the full weight of my emotions.

“Sela.”

“Yes?” I said in an exasperated breath.

“Sela,” he repeated for the third time, until I turned my fearful gaze in his direction. “Sometimes cats see things…” He looked over his shoulder, noticing how protective Luna was in front of the closed doorway. “Hear things.”

“She looks alarmed.”

“The wind is picking up,” he suggested. “It makes odd sounds throughout the house. It is an old one. I should show you…” He turned away from me and pulled out a drawer. A small hardcover sketchbook was held in his hands protectively. “I have something here.” He flipped through the pages quickly, although he made sure it was positioned so that I could not see the contents of it. “A sketch.”

I stepped closer, awaiting to see the image that Teddy wished to reveal to me. His hand motioned me forward and soon we were leaning over an old pine table to look at the image. The depiction was made in black ink, a detailed illustration of his house at some point in time. It appeared abandoned then, with tall weeds growing at the side of the house. The windows were boarded up with wood, and the shabbiness of the house was felt profusely the longer I stared at it.

“Not so long ago,” he revealed. “That it looked that way.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No?” He questioned me with a playfulness to his voice. “Then I shall take credit for it.” Teddy straightened his back to bring himself to his full height. “This was a little more than five years ago.”

“I thought it was over fifty years at least.”

“No, at that time it was quite livable.” He looked over his shoulder at the closed doorway. “Thriving.” He averted his attention back to the hand-drawn sketch in front of him. “When my mother was still young and happy. When her father and the rest of her family were still alive.”

“Do you have any images of them?”

“I would have to go looking for them.” He left my side, intent on seeking out the images that would quench my curiosity. When he was gone I turned the page, too curious for my own good. It was a small depiction of Teddy as a child, probably between the ages of six or eight. He was a tall, wiry sort of boy with an unusual growth spurt. His clothes were shabby though, disorderly and worn out to the point that it looked too small for his frame. The strangest image of all was that he was holding a raggedy old teddy bear; it was pressed hard against his chest in a protective manner that matched the haunting sadness to his eyes.

“I couldn’t…” Teddy paused, realizing the image that I had discovered. His jaw clenched tightly and then he tore his eyes away from me to look out the open window.

“Sorry.” I shut the sketchbook closed and took a large step back.

“There is stuff in there that is private,” he growled. A hand reached downwards to snatch it off the table. “And I can’t locate the photo album. I think it’s in the cellar.”

“Should we go looking for it?”

His eyebrows arched upwards. “Look for it?” he echoed with a voice that was full of mockery. “No, Sela.” The sketchbook was tossed into the open drawer at the side of the table. “I think it’s time for you to go outside.”

“Teddy, I…”

He stepped away from me, burying his hands inside of his trouser pockets. The door was soon pushed further back, a tell-tale sign that it was time for me to leave the art room.

“I’m sorry,” I finished off. “I went too far.”

He never made a word when I bypassed him, he simply watched me place on my rubber boots with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

“Teddy!” I called out, for I hated the distance that stretched between us. “I really am sorry for snooping.”

“It was a mistake leaving it there with you.”

I pursed my lips tightly, wishing there was something I could do to make the situation better.

“You trusted me,” I pointed out. “And I ruined that trust.”

The man was silent as he stood in front of the art room. It was the first time he had ever allowed that door to be open, and I because of my own curiosity I may have stopped him from taking the chance to open up to me more. My curiosity had gotten the better of me. Luna padded down the hallway, heading towards the music room where Teddy and I had first sat down to have a proper conversation. How long ago it felt, but it had been just days since we first met. I forced my gaze to shift to the right, noticing that he had trouble looking at me. There was pain coursing through him, and I realized then that his anger had turned to another direction.

“Teddy!” I called out yet again. “Please, can we talk some more outside?”

He stepped forward and slipped on his shoes. Grey slippers were lined up neatly against the wall; he decided to not take a proper spring coat and stepped outside into the bright sunlight first. Teddy waited for me to join him before he slammed the door behind us, though he frequently looked back as though we were being followed. We steadily walked towards the small wooden shed, and to my surprise he pointed out a shady area where we could have a private conversation with one another.

“What do you have to say?” he asked with impatience.

“What is that sketchbook for?”

“It’s for my memories,” he sighed out. “I like to suppress them, but sometimes they force themselves out. So that book is my coping mechanism. Some people write diaries.” Teddy stretched out a long arm to rest his hand over the sturdy tree bark. “I draw.”

The leaves of the willow tree blew softly, it was a large one that must have been planted when the house was first developed. I was too busy looking up at the treetops to focus on Teddy, it was as though my lucid mind was slipping away from me.

“Do you keep a diary?” he inquired with a sharpness to his voice.

“No.”

“Some people do.”

“I am not much of a writer,” I told him with some reluctance.

“Are you ever haunted by some things?”

I took a step backwards so I could see the expanse of his garden. The grey bricks glowed in the bright midday sunlight, letting me know that time was slipping away faster than I could have ever imagined. “Like memories?” I questioned him. “Or something more than that?”

“Memories,” he clarified.

“I’ve made mistakes,” I assured him. “Sometimes we do things in life to please other people. At other times, it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“Or the wrong,” he laughed out sadly.

“It’s what makes us human.”

“Human,” he repeated with an air of melancholy.

“You did not have a happy childhood,” I stated as fact, which immediately caught him off-guard. “Did you?”

“I had the worst,” he huffed out aggressively, to the point that I could sense the burning anger inside of him. “And I live everyday…” He stopped himself short. “I’ll only be free of it if I die, maybe.” He looked downwards at the ground. “No, that doesn’t sound right. How…”

“Yes?”

“How can I move on?” he stammered out. “How can I live when….” He stared hard at the house, as if it