The curtain is closed so I flick the light on. Bags, cases, boxes, all lined up against the far wall where the kids’ toys used to be. It seems Kenny isn’t in a rush to unpack. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Evidence of what?

In the corner a small cardboard box filled with comic books and schoolbooks sits on the floor. Bending down, I rummage through the contents. All pretty normal stuff. Leaning my hands on the ground, about to push myself into a standing position, I notice something hidden under the bed. It’s pushed right into the corner. Scurrying across the floor I reach in and pull it out. My hand brushes across the carving on top of the wooden box. It’s old, a strange thing for a young boy to have, unless of course it’s his mother’s, something to remember her by. Pulling on the lip, I attempt to open it but the box is locked. Now I’m really interested.

‘What are you doing?’ Tom is standing in the room by the door.

‘I want to know what’s in this box.’

‘For fuck’s sake, you can’t do that.’

‘I can and I will.’

‘But…’

‘But nothing, this box was hidden under the bed, our bed, in our house, I want to know what’s in it.’

Tom pauses, shaking his head before walking over to where I’m sitting with the box at my side on the bed.

‘Here, give it to me.’ He wants to know too.

‘I can’t open it, it’s locked.’ I hand Tom the box which he inspects from every angle.

‘If we break it open he’s going to know, he’ll never trust us.’ For a moment I let Tom’s concern linger in my thoughts.

‘Don’t you think we should know what’s in our house, especially when it’s in a locked box, hidden under a bed? Remember, Tom, we know fuck all about this kid. What if it’s drugs? We have to protect our own kids.’

He relents, takes the screwdriver from his back pocket that he’s been using in Amber’s room and holds it to the lock.

‘I don’t know if this will work, I might have to—’

Ouch, he broke the lid, it’s cracked right down the middle. There’s no going back now. After a bit more tugging and twisting the box is open.

‘Got it.’ Tom pulls on the lid. Both of us stand back from the bed like a bomb is about to explode. Well, it’s not drugs. It’s letters. Cards and letters from people I don’t even know. The song swirls around in my brain. ‘What the…’