Chapter 26 - My suitcase
Three years after the incident, I packed for a business trip.
Pippa was eight.
She stood in my bedroom doorway.
Same habit.
Different child.
I put shirts into a suitcase.
She asked:
“How many sleeps?”
“Two.”
“Where?”
“Atlanta.”
“Can I FaceTime?”
“Of course.”
Then:
“Is Aunt Natalie staying?”
My sister Natalie now stayed overnight when I traveled.
Not because Pippa needed constant family supervision forever.
Because I changed my work structure and no longer left her with romantic partners or household employees by default.
“Yes.”
Pippa nodded.
No panic.
Then she saw the old purple child suitcase on the closet shelf.
She became still.
I followed her eyes.
“Want me to get rid of it?”
She thought.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“It’s mine.”
Right.
Not Camilla’s.
Not evidence.
Hers.
She pulled it down.
“What for?”
“Sleepover at Emma’s Saturday.”
I smiled.
“Okay.”
The same object.
May you like
Different purpose.
That mattered.
