The Silence Between Us: (Part One)
The storm had rolled in from the coast, heavy clouds pressing low against the rooftops, when Evelyn Carrington decided to climb into the attic. The house felt too hollow without the hum of her late husband’s presence, too vast for one woman and her sighs. She had avoided the attic for years, afraid of what memories might wait in the dust, but the rain tapping against the windows gave her no excuse to delay. The ladder protested beneath her weight as she pulled herself upward into the half-dark. The air was thick with the scent of cedar and mildew, and draped furniture crouched like forgotten monuments. She ran her hand across an old trunk, the leather cracked with time and pulled open the lid. Inside were boxes neatly labeled in her husband’s handwriting. Evelyn’s breath caught as she traced the ink. Arthur had been gone seven years, yet the sight of his letters made her ache as if the loss had happened yesterday. She opened the first box, expecting tax forms or old receipts. Instead, ...
