After her father’s death, Jenelle returns home to grieve, only to be handed a rent bill by her much younger stepmother, who was once her cruel middle school teacher. But Elizabeth doesn’t know the house was left to Jenelle. Now, grief turns to grit, and Jenelle’s silence becomes her sharpest weapon.
The house still smelled like him.
Cedar and coffee, and the faintest trace of the cologne he always oversprayed before a dinner out. I kept inhaling, afraid that the scent would vanish, that every trace of him would slip through my fingers just like he had.
A bottle of cologne on a dresser | Source: Midjourney