Controlling My Emotions
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “It’s just… these were my daughter’s skates,” I said softly, fighting to hold myself together. Part of me wanted to clutch them tightly and run, but another part desperately wanted answers. Reluctantly, I handed the skates to Mr. Thompson, my fingers lingering as I let go. He looked surprised, and I almost caught a hint of apology in his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he said cautiously.
Controlling My Emotions
From the Property of His Son
Mr. Thompson looked puzzled. “I got them from Jake’s old things,” he explained, referring to his son who had moved out years ago. “They’ve just been sitting in the garage all this time.” His words settled over me slowly—such a simple explanation for a mystery so profound. But how had Jake come to possess them? A small pang of hope—and desperation—stirred inside me. Maybe Jake held answers no one else did.
From The Property Of His Son
