Chapter 186 - Thirty-seven Dollars
Morning reached the bungalow before Roxie slept.
Gray light filled the living room and stretched through her open bedroom door. Zac remained beside her, asleep on top of the blanket with one arm resting near the edge of the mattress.
His phone sat facedown on the floor.
Roxie watched him breathe for several seconds before looking past him toward the front door.
The lock had stayed still all night.
She pushed the blanket away and stood carefully. Zac shifted but remained asleep.
Her body felt heavy from practice, the medical examiner’s office, and the hours she had spent waiting for a key that would never enter the lock.
She was tired, but there were things she needed to do first.
Roxie stepped around Zac’s shoes and walked into the living room.
Claire’s gray sweater remained over the kitchen chair.
Her blue mug sat beside the sink.
Roxie left both where they were.
She could do that later.
The envelope from the medical examiner rested on the dining table beside the clear bag containing Claire’s belongings. Thirty-seven dollars remained folded inside the wallet. Three loose cigarettes pressed against the plastic beside the lighter and cracked phone.
Roxie picked up the envelope and carried it into Claire’s room.
The room looked worse in daylight. Before last night, she had not opened it since their fight.
Clothes covered the chair and part of the floor. Bills sat beneath makeup, receipts, empty cigarette packs, and prescription bottles. One dresser drawer remained open from Roxie’s search the night before.
She placed the envelope on the bed.
Then she began sorting.
Bills went into one pile.
Documents went into another.
She placed Claire’s birth certificate, social security card, and old medical papers together. She found expired identification cards, letters from the county, overdue electric notices, and unopened envelopes from companies Roxie had never heard of.
She read every name and number even when she had no idea what mattered.
Each paper was folded until the edges lined up.
Clothes came next.
Roxie picked up shirts from the floor, folded them, and placed them on the bed. Claire owned more clothes than Roxie expected, though most were old and several still smelled like cigarettes.
One blouse had a missing button.
A pair of jeans had torn near the back pocket.
Claire had kept both.
Roxie found two dresses shoved beneath the chair. She recognized one from the day Claire appeared at the principal’s office. It was the last time Roxie remembered seeing her dressed up.
The fabric was wrinkled now, and one sleeve had been pushed inside itself.
Roxie pulled the sleeve out, folded the dress, and placed it with the shirts.
She opened the bottom dresser drawer.
Inside were tangled chargers, receipts, old photographs, and a plastic drugstore bag.
Roxie pulled the bag out.
A bottle of shampoo sat at the bottom.
She stared at the label.
It was the expensive kind Claire used on her hair. Roxie liked the scent, but Claire never let her use it. After every shower, Claire carried the bottle back into her room so Roxie could not touch it.
Once, Roxie had used enough to wash her hair before school.
Claire noticed immediately and shouted about the price until Roxie promised she would never use it again.
The bottle was still half full.
Roxie held it for several seconds.
She remembered Claire walking through the bungalow with wet hair and the bottle tucked beneath her arm, guarding it more carefully than most things in the house.
It was ridiculous.
Roxie placed it beside the other toiletries and continued sorting.
Her phone began ringing on the bed.
ETHAN.
Roxie watched it for two rings before answering.
"Hello?"
"Where the hell were you last night?"
His voice was sharp, but she could hear people talking behind him.
"At home."
"You missed your shift. You didn’t call. Marco was pissed, and I had to cover the back while grilling."
Roxie looked at the clothes spread across Claire’s bed.
"Sorry. Things happened."
Ethan lowered his voice. "What happened?"
"Ummm—my mom died."
The sounds behind him continued.
Someone called out about a project.
A chair scraped across the floor.
Ethan said nothing.
Roxie rubbed her thumb across the side of the shampoo bottle.
"She overdosed in a motel," she continued. "The police called during practice and I had to identify her last night."
"Are you alone?"
"No."
"Who’s there?"
Roxie looked through the doorway toward her bedroom.
"Zac."
Another silence followed.
"I’m coming."
"You’re in school."
"I’m coming."
"Ethan, I don’t need you here."
The call ended.
Roxie stared at her phone.
She called him back.
It rang until his voicemail answered.
She tried again.
He rejected the call.
Roxie dropped the phone onto the bed and returned to the dresser.
She sorted another stack of papers.
A grocery receipt.
A pawnshop ticket.
An old school photograph of Roxie with her front teeth missing.
She stared at the picture.
Her hair had been tied into two uneven ponytails. One sat higher than the other.
Maybe Claire had forgotten to throw it away.
Claire had never been the type to treasure anything about her.
Roxie ran her finger over the photograph before placing it beside the documents. She had no idea where else it belonged.
Zac appeared in the doorway several minutes later.
His hair was flattened on one side, and his hoodie was wrinkled from sleeping in it.
"You left."
"I’m in the next room."
He looked over the bed. "What are you doing?"
"Sorting."
Zac entered the room and picked up one of the envelopes.
"What pile is this?"
"I don’t know yet."
"Then why is it a pile?"
"Because it isn’t clothing."
He looked at her.
Roxie flattened another bill against the dresser.
"You should eat," he said.
"I’m busy."
"You ate five spoonfuls of soup last night."
"You counted?"
"Yes."
"That’s disturbing and a bit obsessive."
"Guilty as charged." Zac looked around the room. "Tell me what to do."
Roxie pointed toward the papers on the bed. "Find anything from the county, a hospital, the police, insurance, or a bank."
He sat on the edge of the bed and began opening envelopes.
Roxie watched him for a moment.
He read each paper carefully before placing it down. Government letters went together. Medical documents formed another stack. Anything containing account information stayed near him.
He had no idea whether the piles were correct.
Neither did Roxie.
He kept organizing them anyway.
Roxie returned to the clothes.
She picked up a black shirt. A cigarette had burned a small hole near the bottom.
She folded it and placed it with the rest.
Zac opened another envelope.
"This is from a hospital."
"Medical pile."
"It says collections."
Roxie looked at the two stacks.
"Bills."
Zac placed it down without reading the amount aloud.
The front door rattled.
Roxie’s entire body went still.
Zac stood immediately.
For half a second, she waited for Claire’s voice.
A knock followed.
Roxie stared toward the hallway.
Nobody called her name.
The knock came again.
She already knew who it was.
"I’ll get the door. Continue sorting."
Zac nodded and glanced curiously at the door before continuing to sort.
Roxie walked through the bungalow and opened the door.
Ethan stood on the porch wearing his school jacket over his uniform. His hair was damp from the cold, and his backpack hung from one shoulder.
He looked at Roxie.
Whatever he had prepared to say disappeared.
"You look terrible."
"Thank you."
"I didn’t mean it like that."
"You usually do."
Ethan stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.
Roxie stayed still for a second before returning the hug.
He held her tighter.
"I’m sorry," he said quietly.
Roxie looked past his shoulder toward the street.
"You shouldn’t have left school."
"My grades can survive."
She pulled back.
Ethan studied her face, then looked beyond her toward the dining table.
The envelope remained beside the clear bag containing Claire’s belongings.
His expression tightened when he saw the cracked phone and wallet inside it.
"Where is she?"
"The medical examiner still has her."
"When will they release her?"
"I have to choose a funeral home first."
"Okay."
"I don’t know which one."
"We’ll look."
Roxie almost told him there was no we.
The words stayed inside her because she had no idea how to choose one alone.
Ethan stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
He removed his backpack and placed it beside the couch.
"What needs to be done?"
"I’m sorting her things."
"What about the funeral home?"
"I have a list."
"I’ll help you check them."
Roxie rubbed one hand over her face. "You skipped school for that?"
"You said you didn’t need anyone."
Ethan looked toward Claire’s room.
"Show me what you found."
Roxie started down the hallway.
Ethan followed.
Then Zac stepped out of Claire’s room carrying several envelopes.
Both boys stopped.
Ethan’s gaze moved over Zac’s wrinkled hoodie and flattened hair.
Then he looked toward Roxie’s open bedroom door.