AIDEN
The engine sputters as I pull to the curb and switch off the ignition.
I step out of the car, looking at the house. I'm not here seeking answers, as I have been in the past. A surge of nostalgia has brought me here.
I rub the necklace Dad gave me in my hand. It holds Mom's picture, but it's only one half of a heart-shaped locket. The other half is in Mom's drawer, containing Dad's picture.
I drove here for the simple purpose of attaching the locket to its other half. However, Dad isn't Mom's other half, although he would have loved to be.
I walk away from my car and head inside. The heavy, iron-wrought gate creaks in the silent neighborhood as I push it open and step onto the property.
This place is now very different from the neighborhood I grew up in. Perhaps it's because al
