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It was like being in a time capsule, a memory of a lifethat no longer existed.
The house was just like she remembered it, and yetcompletely different.
She walked down the hall, past the picture on the wall ofher and her father on one of their fishing trips, and into the kitchen. Thecabinets were empty, the refrigerator was unplugged, and there was mold growingon the countertop.
Morgan felt a wave of sadness wash over her. This hadbeen her home, and she had lost it all. She had lost her father, her career,her life. She had nothing left but this house, and even that was falling apart.
Morgan’s heart sank as she walked through the livingroom, past the old television set, the worn-out couch, and the bookshelvesfilled with her father’s old books. She couldn’t bear to look at them, not now.Not after what had happened.
But then she saw something that made her heart skip abeat. On the coffee table. An envelope, addressed to her.
She picked it up and tore it open.
“Dear Morgan,”it read.“If you’re readingthis, it means you’ve been released. I always knew you were innocent, and I’msorry that I didn’t live long enough to see you come home. But I wanted toleave you something. All my love. Forever, Dad.”
“Forever,” she said out loud.
He’d known he was going to die and had still used termslikeforever.It had been prostate cancer. It had come on quickly and they’dcaught it late. After chemo had nearly destroyed his will to live for a fewweeks, he opted not to go that route.
Two and a half months later, he was dead. And all she’dtaken away from it was a distant view from the other side of a church parking lotas blurry shapes milled around his gravesite.
She looked back inside the envelope and her heart fell tosee an old Polaroid of them together. Sailing. And behind the photo, cash. Athousand dollars. It pained her to think of how hard he’d have had to work forthat.
Her heart broke, and a sob escaped her.
It was too much. The memories. The darkness. The lostyears. She felt suffocated by it all.
Morgan collapsed onto the couch and cried, tearsstreaming down her face. She had lost so much, but her father’s love andsupport had never wavered. Even in death, he had found a way to comfort her, tolet her know that she was loved.
She wiped her tears away and took a deep breath, feelinga sense of calm wash over her. Resolve.
There was only one thing she knew she could do.
And only one thing she knew that was left in this housethat could still be put to use.
She made her way down the short dark hall to thebathroom.
The medicine cabinet.
She opened it and stared. Sure enough, the pill bottles werestill there. She was certain the pills inside were long expired, but did thatreally matter? She didn’t think so. With trembling hands and tears still in hereyes, she reached inside and grabbed one of the old bottles.
She popped the top and peered inside. The white pillsseemed to greet her warmly. She rattled them a bit, as if trying tocommunicate. There were at least a dozen. She wasn’t sure if that would beenough.
But there was one easy way to find out.
She let out a gasp and tilted the bottle to her mouth.
She nearly yelled out when a loud banging noise torethrough the house. For a very strange moment, she was sure it was her father,or at least the ghost of her father, not approving of what she was about to do.
But then, shaking and still crying a bit, she realizedwhat she’d heard. And in a way, it was just as alarming as the idea of herfather’s ghost watching what she was about to do.
It was a knock at the front door.
CHAPTER TWO
Morgan put the cap back on the pills, doing her best tokeep the feeling of guilt from taking over. What the hell had she beenthinking?
She put the bottle back inside the medicine cabinet andclosed it, giving it one last, longing look. She then made her way through thehouse as the knock at the door came again. This time, a voice accompanied it.It was the voice of an older woman, slightly rough as it came through theclosed front door.
