A week later, I set a framed picture of me and Hazel on the bookshelf in my room. I was fine with moving into a room that was basically empty except for the bed and dresser, but over the past week, furniture kept arriving. I wasn’t even here when this bookshelf showed up—it just appeared, put together, this morning after I got home from Daisy’s walk. My stomach flutters. I know he put it together.
