LILA
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. The basement air hung thick with dust and mildew, settling heavily in my lungs. Trisha's eyes flashed, her jaw clenching as she lunged forward. It happened so fast. She slapped the box out of my hand, and my father's battered cardboard container never stood a chance. It exploded on impact, unleashing a blizzard of memories across the cold concrete floor.
Faded photographs skittered into dark corners. Yellowed papers fluttered like dying moths. A musty sweater slumped in defeat, still holding the shape of the man who once wore it.
My chest tightened as I surveyed the wreckage of a life reduced to scattered artifacts. A vein throbbed in my temple, my vision narrowing until all I could see was Trisha's smug face
