I didn’t question why I was following.
I just knew I had to.
“Where are you taking me?” I called, my voice cracking.
He led me across the lot, past overgrown weeds and rusted tools, straight toward an old shed at the far edge of the property. The door hung unevenly, barely attached.
Baxter stopped at the entrance.
My heart was pounding as I stepped inside.
The shed smelled of damp wood and dust. Sunlight filtered through warped boards, creating pale lines across the floor. My breathing sounded loud in the quiet space.
That’s when I saw it.
In the far corner, tucked behind an old rake and a cracked flowerpot, was a small nest made of clothing.
Familiar clothing.
I moved closer, my chest tightening with each step.
There were Lily’s things. A purple scarf. A blue hoodie. A white cardigan she hadn’t worn in years. And nestled gently among them was a calico cat, her body curled protectively around three tiny kittens.
They were no bigger than my hands.
The cat lifted her head slowly, watching me without fear.
Baxter placed the yellow sweater beside them. The kittens immediately wriggled closer, seeking warmth.
And in that moment, I understood.
This sweater hadn’t come from where I feared.
It had come from here.
I sank to my knees, my hand pressed against my chest as the truth settled over me.
This wasn’t random.
This was something Lily had started.
And Baxter had just brought me back to it.
