“A chest? What does it look like?” Gretchen searched her unreliable memory for a chest.

“Large. Wooden. Looks haunted.”

“What’s inside it?” Gretchen’s mind reeled. She hoped the letters were in there, but she also hoped it was full of discarded clothing.

“Looks like baby blankets, lots of baby blankets. Some stuffed animals and photo albums, but the albums don’t have any pictures in them.”

“My marriage probably fell apart before we got around to it,” Gretchen said with a clenched jaw.

“What?”

“Nothing. Do you see the boxes? One of them has old tools in it. I’m sure there’ll be something sharp enough for you to break into that garment rack.”

“Old tools? How are you not even forty with a box of old tools in your attic?”

Gretchen found humor in it, too. “We collected tools as we moved from one apartment to the next, back when we could only afford to buy one at a time. If we needed a screwdriver we’d buy one, only one, and make sure it was the cheapest they had.”

“Thankfully you also needed preschool scissors.”

She remembered the day Jax came home to their first apartment with everything needed to wrap Christmas presents. She was so proud of herself for only spending six dollars on everything, including scissors. “Best ones the dollar store had to offer,” Gretchen said as the memory ended.

“Got ’em.”

She listened to Amanda’s hurried steps and followed her back to the other side of the attic. The sound of crinkling plastic came next, followed by more cursing. “Your language has certainly improved.”

“I’ve learned to express myself more fully by saying fuck a lot. It’s very therapeutic. There’s a lot of clothes packed on this thing.”

Gretchen’s phone buzzed. She opened the photo and grinned. “Bring it all down.”

“All of it?” Amanda sounded overwhelmed.

Thirty minutes later, Gretchen spun in the middle of her bedroom and smiled. She felt a shift within, like she was finally becoming herself again. “I loved this dress.” She smoothed her hands over the golden material. The small navy-blue flowers sewn into the cotton cheered her up immensely. “It’s a shame we’re in the dead of winter. I want to wear this every day.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it.”

“You will now, once the weather warms up. I can’t believe I didn’t have any warm clothes up there.” She shook her head at the pile of skirts, dresses, and linen shirts covering her bed.

Amanda shrugged from her place in the doorway. “Maybe it didn’t fit.”

Gretchen frowned. “We have to go shopping. Wait. Do I have money? How have my bills been getting paid?”

“About that,” Amanda said just before walking away. She came back into the room with a checkbook. “I should probably give this back to you. After your first few days in the hospital, I went searching for it. Thankfully you are very, very meticulous when it comes to your finances.”

“I can’t believe more people aren’t.” Gretchen flipped through the pages.