Chapter 21 - The house after Claire
The blue room stayed locked for months.
Police processed it.
Lawyers catalogued documents.
Then everything came back.
I had to decide what to do with 214 drawings.
I wanted to frame all of them.
That would have been another kind of overreaction.
I asked Lily.
“Do you want these?”
She stared at the box.
“All?”
“Yes.”
She began sorting.
Keep.
Trash.
Keep.
Trash.
I almost stopped her when she tore one drawing.
Then realized:
They were hers.
Not sacred evidence anymore.
One picture of Amelia went beside Lily’s bed.
One drawing labeled:
DADDY PLANE
went into my desk.
Lily chose that one for me.
The rest filled two ordinary art boxes.
Not a shrine.
The black notebook stayed with legal records until the case ended.
When returned, I did not keep it.
My attorney confirmed no reason remained.
I shredded it through a secure service.
No burning.
No backyard ceremony.
Paper became paper.
The blue room changed too.
Lily asked:
“Why door blue?”
“Claire picked it.”
“I don’t like.”
“What color?”
“Yellow.”
The painter nearly laughed when I told him.
We painted it yellow.
Then converted the room into an art and reading room.
Not Lily’s therapy room.
Not memorial.
Crayons.
Books.
A table.
One locked cabinet for actual adult documents.
The first time Lily walked inside after renovation, she looked at the floor.
“No purple box.”
“No.”
“Can pictures leave?”
“Yes.”
She drew something.
Carried it downstairs.
Put it directly into my briefcase.
“Take work.”
I did.
It sat beside a $74 million acquisition model during the next board meeting.
May you like
Correct priority.
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