The Simple Wild (Wild, #1)

by K.A. Tucker

This little modular house with the tacky ducks felt so empty when I first stepped into it and, while it’s still the same empty little house, I now have memories attached to it, to help fill it up. Of my dad’s soft chuckle carrying through the perpetual silence, of the smell of his fresh-brewed coffee in the morning, of the sound of the floors creaking as he pads down the hallway after saying good night to me. Such little things—tiny, trivial slivers of his life that shouldn’t count as memories—and yet I know they’ll be the first things that come to mind when I think of him here, years from now.