Chapter 13: The House
I returned to the house only after the decree was final and the last of Ryan’s listed personal items had been removed under supervised arrangement.
The rooms were empty of their presence. The furniture that remained was what I chose to keep. The rest I sold or donated without ceremony. New locks had already been in place for months. I changed them once more anyway, not out of residual fear, but out of procedural completeness.
Standing in the master bedroom, I examined the space where the clippers had been used. The pillow and linens were long gone. The carpet had been cleaned. There was no physical trace left of that night. Only the record remained—photographs, medical notes, and the dated inventory of hair and bloodied fabric that had been collected while both of them still believed I would resign.
May you like
I did not linger.
The house was no longer a site of confrontation. It was a piece of property under sole ownership, useful or disposable according to my future requirements. For the time being I kept it, maintained it, and continued to live primarily in lodging near the installation. Proximity to the command mattered more than reclaiming the address.
