Three Weeks Later
“Oomph,” I muttered as I hoisted an over-packed moving box labeled Bedroom into my arms. With another grunt, I stumbled down the hallway and into the master bedroom. After depositing the box on the floor, I glanced around the chaos surrounding me.
Two weeks ago when I’d stood in this room, Papa could be seen in every nook and cranny. After all, it had been his bedroom. But now all semblances of him had been wiped away and replaced with my possessions. While I was in Atlanta working a two-week notice for Blue Pearl and packing up my condo, my family had prepared Papa’s house for my arrival. Even though it made me feel guilty, I was glad I didn’t have to help dismantling Papa’s possessions. The thought of emptying his closets and going through his drawers made me nauseous
