Chapter 5 - THE THINGS SHE COULD STILL OWN
Chloe had never bought a piece of furniture without asking Tommy first.
That realization came to her in a thrift store on a bright Tuesday morning.
She stood in front of a little wooden desk with chipped green paint, wondering whether it would fit inside the temporary apartment a survivor-support organization had helped her rent.
The apartment had one bedroom, a narrow kitchen, and windows that faced a brick wall.
It was nothing special.
To Chloe, it felt like a palace.
Because Tommy didn't have a key.
Because nobody checked when she came home.
Because she could leave a book on the counter without someone throwing it across the room.
She purchased the desk for thirty-five dollars.
Then bought a yellow lamp.
A blue coffee mug.
And three packets of flower seeds for the windowsill.
Small things.
Ordinary things.
The kind of choices she'd almost forgotten how to make.
Her counselor, Denise, had encouraged her to keep a notebook.
Not a diary about Tommy.
A notebook about herself.
Things she liked.
Things she wanted.
Things she had stopped doing.
The first page contained only one sentence.
I used to make beautiful things.
Before meeting Tommy, Chloe had studied glass artistry at a community college.
She worked with stained glass, restored antique windows, and created tiny decorative sculptures.
Lily had taught her the basics.
The two sisters used to spend entire afternoons experimenting with colors in a rented studio.
After Lily disappeared, Chloe stopped making birds.
Then Tommy entered her life.
At first, he seemed fascinated by her work.
He brought her flowers.
Bought her art supplies.
Said he wanted to help her build a business.
Within a year, he was criticizing everything she created.
The colors were wrong.
The designs were childish.
Her customers were taking advantage of her.
Eventually, Chloe stopped accepting commissions.
Then she stopped making anything at all.
Now she stood in the thrift store holding a secondhand sketchbook.
And made another decision.
She would begin again.
That afternoon, she visited a glass studio run by a woman named Rosa Delgado.
Rosa was fifty-six, with short gray curls, strong hands, and brightly colored glasses.
She listened to Chloe's explanation of her experience.
Then showed her the workshop.
There were kilns.
Cutting tables.
Shelves of colored glass.
And a large window overlooking the street.
"What do you think?" Rosa asked.
Chloe felt tears rise.
"It smells like home."
Rosa smiled.
"Then perhaps you should work here."
Chloe stared.
"I don't have much money."
"I'm not offering you a lease. I'm offering you a part-time position assisting with restoration classes."
Chloe blinked.
"You haven't seen my work."
"Then show me."
Rosa handed her a small piece of green glass and a pencil.
"Design something."
Chloe looked at the blank paper.
For a moment, her hands froze.
She heard Tommy's voice.
That's ugly.
No one wants that.
You think you're some famous artist?
She closed her eyes.
Then imagined Lily's smile.
Start with a line, Little Bird. Everything beautiful starts somewhere.
Chloe drew.
A small bird.
Wings lifted.
Head turned toward the sky.
Rosa studied the sketch.
Then smiled.
"When can you start?"
Chloe laughed through tears.
"Tomorrow."
That evening, Matteo called through the secure number Chloe had agreed to share with him.
"How was your day?"
She hesitated.
Then smiled.
"I got a job."
There was a pause.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"What kind?"
"Glass restoration."
Matteo sounded genuinely pleased.
"That suits you."
Chloe laughed.
"You barely know me."
"I know you recognized your sister's work from a photograph."
"That's different."
"Not entirely."
She looked toward the yellow lamp she'd bought.
For the first time, she wasn't frightened by the silence between them.
Then Matteo said, "The police have recovered your duffel bag."
Her heart stopped.
"What?"
"Tommy abandoned it in a storage unit associated with one of his cousins. Investigators obtained legal access."
"Did they find the glass?"
"Yes."
Chloe pressed a hand against her chest.
"Is it broken?"
Matteo hesitated.
"More than it was before."
She closed her eyes.
Lily's bird.
The last gift her sister had given her.
Reduced to fragments.
Matteo continued.
"The pieces have been secured for forensic examination. Detective Sullivan asked whether you would identify them."
Chloe swallowed.
"Of course."
Then he said something unexpected.
"Chloe, there's no guarantee those fragments will tell us what happened. But whether they do or not, you deserve the chance to recover what your sister left you."
She stared at the little wooden desk.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
After the call, Chloe opened her notebook.
On the second page, she wrote:
I found work I love.
Below it, she added:
I am allowed to start over.
She looked at the words for a long time.
Then smiled.
May you like
For the first time in years, she believed them.
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