10
On Sunday, Jonah glowered at the remaining piles of his dad’s stuff. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to waste his dwindling time with Rachel digging through this crap, searching for something that had probably been tossed or stolen or lost. If they hadn’t found a flash drive or financial records or anything remotely useful on the previous trip when they’d had all hands on deck, why should they expect to find something now?
Beyond all that, he could acknowledge, in the privacy of his own head, that he was anxious about what else he might find. The childhood memorabilia they’d uncovered that first day had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. It didn’t fit with the picture of the man he’d carried in his head all these years. Were there more pieces that didn’t fit? More e
