Lana squinted as she flicked the lamp switch. The musty air of damp walls hit her nose, but it still couldn't compete with the stifling weight in her chest.
Her eyes swept over the storage room, littered with photos scattered on the floor and piled on dust-covered tables.
She stepped in with a heavy sigh as her fingers wrapped around an old baseball bat leaning against the wall.
Holding it loosely, she dragged it behind her, the tip scraping the floor with a gritty screech that echoed through the room.
A large framed photo covered in a white cloth made her stop mid-step. She yanked the sheet away.
Her teeth sank into the inside of her lower lip, breath trembling as her violet eyes darkened at the sight before her—a family photo, with Lethia grinning between Varrel and her father, all of them frozen in a joy that felt like a slap to the face.
"Are you mocking me?" she whispered bitterly to the photo.
