AMELIA LIFTS THE BLACKOUT CARDBOARD from the window. The sunshine makes her blink and frown. Today is another day without Billy. Today is another day in which something terrible might happen to him. Today is another day to get through in the hopes of better days to come. She rubs at her eyes. Below, the small front garden soaks in the morning sunshine. She unclips her rollers, pulls them out of her fine pale hair. They let her have the big room because it’s all she has now. Her whole life is in one room: an armchair, a wardrobe, a bed and a suitcase. The room is hers, but the house is Billy’s and Ruby’s. She hopes that they will stay here, for a while at least. The blue suitcase still stands at the end of the bed. That’s where she keeps the picture book. She’s discovered, over these past few years, that she can stand to lose almost everything but that. The suitcase is solid, with its beech struts and its strong blue lacquered cardboard. It will keep her picture book safe. It will last.
