POV: Millie
The storm burned out fast, but it left the afternoon feeling like a greenhouse. I can handle ninety-something degrees. It's the humidity that gets me - sweat soaking through my clothes before I've done anything. I tried the attic first, working top to bottom, but the heat drove me back down after I'd barely opened the first trunk. The air up there pressed against my lungs like a wet blanket.
I find the boxes Han stacked in the spare bedroom and decide to start there. My parents' old bedroom is off-limits as a place I'd actually sleep. A colder person would clear everything out and donate it to a thrift shop. Maybe I'll get there eventually. Right now those clothes and trinkets are all I have of them. I'm not ready. The thought of strangers wearing my mother's sweaters makes m
