"Fiona."
"I'm here."
"You have to promise me something."
I leaned closer. "Mom, rest."
"No." Her fingers closed around my wrist. "Victor."
My stomach tightened.
"Not this again."
"Mom, rest."
"Promise me you'll feed him."
"Why?" I whispered. "Why him? Why always him?"
Her eyes filled.
"I never put him before you."
"It felt like you did."
"I know." Her voice cracked. "And I'm sorry."
"Then tell me why."
"Why him? Why always him?"
She looked toward the door.
"If Mark comes around after I'm gone, don't let him touch the blue box."
I blinked. "Uncle Mark?"
"Promise me."
"What does Mark have to do with Victor?"
Her grip tightened.
"He'll erase him completely."
"What does Mark have to do with Victor?"
"Erase who?"
"Just promise me, Fiona."
I wanted to demand answers, but she looked so afraid, and I was still her daughter.
"I promise," I said.
A tear slid down her cheek.
"He was my safe place," she whispered.
A few days later, she was gone.
"Just promise me, Fiona."
After the funeral, people filled Mom's little house with sandwiches and soft voices. She had bought it years later after scraping together every dollar.
Uncle Mark stood near the hallway, already touching boxes.
I stepped toward him. "What are you doing?"
He gave me that calm smile he used when he wanted me to feel unreasonable.
"Helping."
"By going through her things?"
"Your mother kept too much, Fiona. Old papers. Broken dishes. Things that only made her sad."
"What are you doing?"
"I'll decide what stays."
His smile thinned. "You're grieving. This isn't the time to make emotional choices."
I looked past him, toward the back window. Victor's shelter sat behind the fence, half hidden by weeds.
"Funny," I said. "Mom told me the same thing about you."
Mark's hand froze on a cardboard box. "What did Stephanie say?"
"That if you came around, I shouldn't let you touch the blue box."
For a second, his face changed.
"This isn't the time to make emotional choices."
Then he laughed softly. "She was sick."
"She was scared."
"Of me?"
"You tell me."
He glanced toward the relatives in the living room, then lowered his voice.
"Leave old pain buried, Fiona."
"She was sick."
