Crushed pages are a death sentence. These books won’t ever close properly. “Kenya, I’m sorry.” “Get back!” I snap at him. Dropping to my knees, I gather the books to me like precious children. Smoothing out as many of the pages as I can, I huddle them close and storm to the living room. Thankfully, I have another empty box left. I deposit the books into it and drag it through the open door.
