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Chapter 40 - THE LOCKI kept the broken brass lock.

For a while.

Evidence returned after trial.

I put it in a drawer.

Then realized I hated knowing it was in the house.

Emma found it accidentally.

She stared.

“Is that mine?”

I crouched.

“It was.”

“Can we throw it away?”

“Yes.”

We drove to the county recycling center.

A worker asked:

“Scrap brass?”

Emma said:

“Yes.”

He tossed it into a metal bin.

Clang.

Emma flinched.

Then looked at me.

“Gone?”

“Gone.”

Not really.

Memory does not obey recycling rules.

May you like

But object gone.

That was something.

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