After the initial, heart-wrenching shock in the hallway, Amara managed to gently guide Hansen inside. He was still trembling, his breathing shallow and hitched, looking around the room with a dazed, hollow expression. The sight of the empty bookshelves and the stacks of taped-up cardboard seemed to disorient him even further, as if the physical dismantling of her home confirmed his worst fears.
"Sit down, Hansen. Please," Amara said softly, her voice wavering. She cleared a stack of newspapers and a stray roll of packing tape off the only chair that hadn't been dismantled yet, a sturdy, thrift-store wooden seat that had seen better decades.
