But then she wondered why it mattered to her what he thought. Because you’re still in love with him, she thought. But he doesn’t feel the same, she argued with herself, so let it go. She shook her head, knowing it wasn’t that easy, and went up the stairs to the attic. Once there, she pulled the strings to turn on the light bulbs, illuminating the space. Where to begin, she thought as she perused the stacks of boxes. Walking to the nearest stack, she lifted the lid on the top box and dug around, finding old clothes. She set the box aside and went through the next one. After half an hour, she hadn’t found the vases. With her hands on her hips, she scanned the room, wondering where to dig next. She needed to start working on her programming project soon and gave herself another fifteen minutes to search, then she would have to look some other time. Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, she walked to a random stack of boxes and began looking. No vases in the first one. She lifted the lid on the second one and found some old photographs.
