DEMI
I don't step into my mother's room fully at first. My hand curls around the doorknob, the new key heavy and unfamiliar in my palm, as if I need the reassurance that I can leave at any moment. For a few seconds, I just stand there at the threshold, looking in, letting my eyes adjust to the dimness and the quiet that seems to settle over everything inside.
It looks… ordinary.
That's the first thing that strikes me.
If someone else walked in here, they wouldn't think twice about it. A small room. A small bed, though the sheets have a faint stiffness that tells me they haven't been touched in a long time. A dresser pushed against the wall. A window with faded curtains that let in a thin strip of daylight. Nothing about it screams tragedy or secrets or the kind of history that has been haunting me since I got here.
It's just like any other room, except to me. It's my mother's room.
