*Liam*
I stand on the top step, staring at the dark mahogany door that opens into my parents' residence. It’s silly to refer to it as such; they haven’t crossed the threshold in twenty years.
With a sigh, I unlock the door, release the latch, and give the wood a hard shove. The hinges creak and moan as the widening gap reveals the entryway. Stepping over the threshold, I close the door behind me, sealing myself in with the memories.
Dust motes dance through the soft light filtering in through the mullioned windows on either side of the door. The air sits heavy, reeking of must and disuse. The silence is thick, a residence abandoned, unloved, unwanted.
It had been my mother’s pride and joy, a symbol of my father’s wealth and station. Even at eight, I had understood the statement made by
