I turned away from her and climbed the stairs to my bedroom, my boots heavy on the carpeted steps.
My room was quiet, the floral wallpaper looking pale in the dim light of the single bedside lamp. Liam had stayed downstairs near the front door, his presence a quiet anchor in the hallway below.
I pulled my brown leather suitcase from the back of the closet and set it on the bed. It was small, a gift from my aunt when I started high school.
I packed three sweaters, two pairs of trousers, and my nursing textbooks. The heavy medical dictionary went in first, forming a solid base.
On the vanity sat the small velvet box my mother had left me. I opened it, the lid hinge creaking in the silence of the room.
Inside were her pearl earrings, the gold posts slightly tarnished from years of sitting in the dark drawer. I took them out, touching the smooth, cool surfaces of the pearls.
These were the only things of hers my father had not locked in the family vault after she passed.
I slipped them deep into my coat pocket, the metal posts catching on the lining.
