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Reagan’s favorite soft toy, a stuffed rabbit she named Mr. Bunny.
Gone.
Caroline’s cloth doll with the handmade dress that Emma crocheted herself.
Gone.
Josh’s boxing gloves. The ones I gave him. The ones I taught him to lace up.
Gone.
As if for added confirmation, I turn towards the mantel. The pictures are still standing in their mismatched frames, Sienna’s smiling face shining out at the center. But there’s an empty square of dust where something used to be and Emma’s words are ringing in my ears.
It’s the first thing I pack and the last thing I unpack.
Her sister’s music box is gone.
