Chapter 24 - SOFIA'S ROOM
I finally opened Sofia's bedroom.
I had kept it untouched for seven years.
Her books remained stacked beside the bed.
A pink sweater hung behind the door.
Her old stuffed dolphin rested against the pillow.
Clara stood outside.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
I opened the door anyway.
Emma followed.
She looked around quietly.
“Was this Sofia's room?”
“Yes.”
“She liked it?”
“She loved it.”
Emma picked up a picture book.
“She must have been nice.”
“She was.”
Emma smiled.
“Then I want to know her.”
I sat on the floor.
So I told her.
About Sofia's obsession with pirates.
Her terrible singing.
Her hatred of broccoli.
The way she stole my ties.
The time she covered my office in glitter.
Emma laughed.
“She sounds funny.”
“She was.”
For the first time, saying Sofia's name didn't feel like touching a wound.
It felt like opening a window.
Later, I packed some of her books for Emma.
Not the valuable ones.
The silly ones.
The ones Sofia had loved.
Emma hugged them.
“Can I keep them?”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
“Then Sofia can be here.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Maybe that was what I had been afraid of all along.
May you like
Not forgetting Sofia.
But discovering I could remember her without breaking.
