Who could have wrested away every remnant we had of Abba — before the shivah is even over?
The first thing that hits me when I close the soundproof door and switch on the lights to Abba’s study is that everything is gone.
Everything.
The desk is there, and the chair and the light fixture and the bookcases of seforim. But the computer screens and the strange, scientific-looking tools, and the papers and notebooks and assortment of pens and even the family pictures — they’re gone, vanished, disappeared, just as if they’ve never existed.
As if someone got here first.
Blood rushes to my head. How can it be? The door was locked. No one has been in here since, since…
Unless someone has? Late at night? Ima, maybe?
Create a free account to keep reading.
