***Rose POV***
The dim light coming from the window on the second-floor landing drew my attention. The gathering clouds, blocking out the sun, were a dark gray, promising rain. I shivered at the prospect and decided to head back upstairs for a weatherproof jacket. After some rummaging, I finally located the item.
It was old, a dull light brown, its hood had a small tear on one of its seams and the cuffs were wearing down. Regardless of its run-down state, I loved the jacket. It came to just above my knees and the sleeves were too long. The faint scent of cigarette smoke and cologne was almost gone. I refused to launder the item of clothing because I could not bear getting rid of the last remnant of my father’s scent.
My father passed away when I was twenty-five. His smoking habit had
