The call lasts only a few seconds and then stops. These seconds are enough for me to clutch the chair with one hand and squeeze the phone with the other. And what was it now?

It's been over two months since I slammed the door in her face. What he regretted that evening. Her copy of the keys with an old bear keychain caught my eye first. I threw the bundle somewhere behind a closet, just to get it out of sight. The next one to be handed out was my portrait, drawn by a girl. I didn’t bury him, but took him off the wall, covered him with an...