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had changed. And I kind of wanted to throw a brick through a window. That would get his attention.
    It wasn’t until I was back on the highway that I realized I’d forgotten to remove my wig and glasses.  

    ~~~

    The overwhelming need for answers had forced me into this undertaking, and instead of getting them, I’d been left even more confused. I disliked uncertainty, disliked not having control over such a huge part of my life.
    Might as well check the cabin. It wasn’t like I could feel any worse.
    It was unlit, as always. I walked in, a curse on my lips, murder on my mind, hot anger threatening to blister my skin.  
    There wasn’t any point to closing the door, so I left it open while I did my inspection.
    No Corbin. Not on the couch, not hiding under the bed or stuffed into the closets. Not even on the roof.
    It was like he’d never existed. “Fuck this,” I said. Just as I was about to leave, I realized something was different. The letter I’d left the day that I came out of hiding had moved. It was still on the table, but it was noticeably closer to the edge.
    A gust of wind swept in, and the paper’s edge fluttered. It was like it was taunting me with my previous optimism. When I’d written it, I had believed that he would come back, that he was the one. Idiot.  
    I grabbed the paper, angrily balled it up and shoved it deep into my coat pocket.  
    Slamming the door hard behind me didn’t do a damned thing to make me feel better.

    ~~~

    I was out of options. Everything in my life sucked, and I blamed Corbin for all of it. It was said that the opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference. Well, I hated Corbin. I wanted bad things to happen to him.  
    He had promised to be fair to me, to respect me, and then he’d done this. That he had left me without any answers was unforgivable.  
    By the time I returned to Rob’s, my fury hadn’t abated in the least. Rob must have seen it on my face, because his eyes went wary.
    “He wasn’t there,” I said before Rob could ask. “He’s nowhere, like a damned ghost. Now I know why they call them spooks. Spies, killers, crossing guards. Everyone sucks.”  
    “That’s hardly true,” Rob said, guarded.
    I reversed direction and went downstairs, to the door that connected the condo to Rob’s garage. I pushed through and turned on the overhead light. Blue plastic boxes full of my belongings were neatly assembled in one corner, stacked all the way up to the ceiling, leaving room for Rob’s car. Corbin’s hit man moving crew had been very considerate.
    They had been meticulous, too. The boxes were numbered, and there was a manifest of sorts, outlining which boxes corresponded to which areas of my apartment. Unfortunately, I’d gotten a little scattered with my organization. Unless I was looking for kitchen, bathroom, or clothing, I always needed to do a bit of digging to find what I wanted. It was a hassle, so I made do with very little. It turned out that I didn’t even need most of my possessions.
    I dug into the mountain. The physical act of pulling the boxes down, digging through them, then whipping them around to form a new pile behind me was distracting enough to calm my jangled nerves.  
    Finally I reached a box labeled “bedroom, miscellany” and decided that would be a good place to start.
    I rifled through nail polish, much of it so old that the tops were welded onto the bottles. I’d thought I’d tossed many of them during a cleaning spree at the end of the previous summer, but apparently not. There were several pink-haired trolls from my childhood collection. They were so ugly, yet strangely compelling. This was stuff from the bottom drawer of my dresser, I realized. I sniffed one of the trolls. It smelled faintly of the drugstore perfume that Veronica and I used to wear. We’d thought it was so sophisticated.  
    We wouldn’t be caught dead in it now.  
    There were stacks of old photos that I had completely forgotten about.