Chapter 1

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"The hardest part about leaving, is knowing what you are leaving behind." - Unknown

It was ominous, the empty house.

My fingers trailed along the glossy finish of the railing as my sneakers made soft thumps on the stairs; each one echoing throughout the foyer. The extravagant paintings that lined the walls were gone, leaving behind bright beige patches that were once shielded from the dust and sunlight.

It was empty, and quiet to the point that I could hear my own breaths and the steady thump-thump-thump of my heart pulsating in my chest. Everything was gone; the beds, the stainless steel appliances, even the chandelier that once hung above me and sparkled with a thousand crystals. All of it . . . gone.

The emptiness was suffocating, surprisingly so. I could feel it constricting my chest, tying my lungs together in one massive knot with my broken heart as the bow. I couldn't believe it-no, I refused to believe it. I had refused ever since I heard the news, but I couldn't refuse it any longer; I couldn't deny the inevitable because there it was, right in front of me and staring me in the face as it flashed with neon colors. There was no escaping it.

"Waverly."

I turned my gaze away from the emptiness and lack of sparkling crystals and instead let my eyes fall on the man standing in the threshold of the front door. The early morning light shone through the opening and landed on him, shadowing his sharp and hollowed features. His shoulders sagged and his eyes appeared red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion. He seemed nothing like the powerful and proud man I once knew.

"It's time to go."

Even his voice sounded tired; each word laced with a slow drawl of fatigue that added even more weight to his narrow shoulders.

My grip tightened on the strap of my Nike duffel bag and my head bobbed in a short nod.

He watched me for another moment, his dull eyes seeming to soften, but I wasn't able to figure out why before he turned around and made his way out of the house and into the driveway. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then let out a long breath and followed, my footsteps still echoing as the duffel bounced against my side.

I paused at the threshold where my dad stood moments ago and let my hand rest against the golden door knob as I twisted my torso around to look back into the empty house. I felt the memories trying to resurface from when I lived there, each of the six-thousand-three-hundred-and-twelve days in that house dancing through my mind and trying to cling to it, refusing to be forgotten. And I didn't want them to be. I wanted to remember every detail of that house and my time there because I didn't want to forget.

But I had to. There was no going back to the way things were before, so I was stuck with leaving, never to return.

A car door slammed and I jumped, turning away from my old home and instead stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind me with a soft click. When I looked up I found my dad making his way to the front of the U-Haul truck that held all of the belongings we were allowed to keep, the ones that we didn't have to sell. He pulled open the driver's side door and ducked inside, letting it fall shut behind him.

He glanced up and his eyes met mine through the windshield. I managed to tilt the corners of my lips up in the briefest hint of a smile as I clomped down the porch steps and jogged to the truck, sliding into the passenger seat beside him.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.

I buckled myself in and let out a long breath, refusing to look back at the house.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I murmured. He gave me a small smile as he revved the engine and backed out of the driveway.

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