The attic was dark, dusty, and abandoned. It had been years since I had last been up here—since the end of high school, at least, when I helped Dad move some of my stuff up here for storage when I moved out of the house—but when Dad and I climbed the steps up into it, I found that it looked much the same as it did all those years ago. Large cardboard boxes covered in thick layers of dust stood everywhere, broken up by the occasional piece of furniture covered in white sheets. The window was covered with a curtain, but Dad, perhaps out of respect for my vision, didn’t open it. Instead, he pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and used its beam to help him navigate the dusty old attic.
“Dad, what are we doing up here?” I said, looking around the attic in confusion. “You said you were going
