The bathroom door suddenly slams shut at the end of the hallway, smashing through the silence and startling away the sobs that were rising to the surface. It was just a gust of wind through one of the open windows, but it still sets my heart racing. I drop the dress and rush out of the room. Down the stairs and out onto the verandah, where I take deep, gulping breaths of fresh air. Air not laced with the scent of my youth or things I’ve lost and can never get back.

Sorrow, fear, adrenaline rush through my veins and set a soft trembling into my whole body. I fold over, put my hands on my knees to steady myself.

“Fuck.” The word roars out of me into the quiet of the surroundings. I brace myself for a scolding. I can’t shake the feeling that a parent is just around the corner, ready to pounce on my infraction.

Just take a few deep breaths. I suddenly hear May’s voice in my head. Don’t let it get to you.

I breathe in and push myself back to a standing position. I consider returning to the mainland and staying another night in the motel. Taking it all in baby steps rather than one giant leap. Maybe it was crazy to think I could do this on my own. Maybe I should just put the place up for sale.

A wind moves through the trees, making the leaves whisper. It catches in the partially open screen door and pulls it forward, making the hinges creak as though the place is speaking to me. Begging me not to leave. Beckoning me back in again.

Go inside and take care of things. There’s May’s voice again. Mom taught you what to do, so do it. I swat at the air as though the voice is an actual thing outside of me, not just my fucked-up head playing tricks.

“What if I can’t?” I say out loud.

You can is the response I hear back. I think I might actually be losing it, but imagining my sister’s voice and encouraging words does helps. My heart is no longer racing, and I have a somewhat renewed sense of confidence.

I go back inside and head right to the kitchen. The big, beige fridge is unplugged, and the door is propped open with a piece of wood. Inside is empty except for mouse droppings and, yet again, black mold. I bend down and plug it into the wall, but nothing happens. I flick the kitchen light switch, and again nothing happens. The main power must be off.