My father shook his head. “We would never do that. Your brothers’ room is still the same as it has always been. They both often drop in and sleep here. We left yours the same way for the same reason.”
They hoped I would drop in and sleep here. I wondered how long my mother and father had prayed for that. Before I started crying once again, I leaned into my father and gave him one last hug before I went into the parlour, where I found my mother and nanny both asleep on the sofa across from Harry. I stared at the two most important women in my life, and I made a silent vow to always be there for them, no matter the cost.
They had lost a son and a brother; I wouldn’t add a daughter and granddaughter to that list.
I took the blanket from the back of the sofa and placed it over the pair of them, kissing their foreheads while doing so. “I love you both so much,” I whispered.
I stood up and turned to my Uncle Harry, and without hesitation tears filled and spilled from my eyes. “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” I murmured to him. “I thought the worst day happened years ago, but you leaving us trumps that.”
Like before, I was expecting a reply, and when it didn’t come, my heart ached.
“Goodnight, Uncle Harry,” I sniffled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I ignored the voice in my head that cruelly whispered, For the last time.
I kissed my uncle’s head and then quietly slipped out of the room and went upstairs to my old bedroom. I placed my hands on the newly sanded and varnished banister, feeling its smoothness as my hand glided over the polished wood. I shook my head when I stepped onto the landing and the floorboard just before the bathroom creaked loudly.
That bloody step is a curse, I silently mused. It ratted me out when I was younger and would sneak downstairs for late-night snacks.
I passed by the bathroom and my father’s office before I came to the familiar door of my old bedroom. I reached out and ran my fingers over the sign I’d proudly hung when I was thirteen.
“DO NOT ENTER LANE’S ROOM!
THE CHANCES OF YOUR DEATH ARE INCREDIBLY HIGH IF YOU IGNORE THIS SIGN.
KALE GETS A PASS, AND HIM ALONE!”
I’d been such a little hellcat.
I chuckled and reached for the handle of my door, and chuckled even more when I heard it creak loudly as I pushed it open. I shook my head. Out of everything that has been fixed in this house, they couldn’t have fixed my bedroom door after all of these years?
I reached to the left wall, felt for the light switch and flipped it. I blinked rapidly against the harshness of the light, but my eyes quickly adjusted and began to scan around the room.
It was the same, and only a little different.
There were bed sheets on my bed that I’d never seen before and curtains that were definitely new to the room. Apart from that, things looked untouched. My mother must have put everything back where she’d found it after she did her rounds of cleaning, because it looked like I’d never left, with the exception of it being a lot cleaner than it ever was when I’d lived here.
I looked down to my attire and frowned. My suitcase was back at the hotel, housing my only pair of pyjamas and fresh change of underwear. I looked over to my dresser and curiously walked forward, opening the first drawer. I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t surprised when I found new packets of underwear lining the wood. I opened the other drawers and found new, plain T-shirts, jeans, leggings, jumpers – you name it; it was stocked in the drawers.
I didn’t think my mother would have had the time to do this kind of a shopping haul over the last few days, which could only mean she had been stocking up on new items of clothing for me over the years. She either hoped I would come home, or she knew I would.
It was clear that though the clothes had never been worn, they had been washed a few times and even ironed, which made me feel like an even bigger piece of shit. Washing them, cleaning and preserving my room was her own way of dealing with me being gone.
I opened a packet of underwear and picked out a pair of plain white booty shorts before opening the fourth drawer and taking out a set of adult-sized Pokémon pyjamas that made me laugh. I’ve always had an embarrassing obsession with Pokémon that only my mother got; her sense of humour on the subject didn’t seemed to have faltered.
Laughing, I headed out of my room and into the bathroom, where I showered, washed my hair and scrubbed and shaved every inch of my body before returning to my room, wrapped tightly in a towel. After I dried and changed into my underwear and pyjamas, I got to work on drying my hair. When I got into bed and everything was quiet and dark, my mind screamed my worries at me.