Ora
After dinner, I walked down the hall and then I stopped in front of the study room. The door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open a bit. As I entered, the study room had shelves all around filled with books. There was a window on the opposite side, just behind the desk. I moved closer to the shelves and I traced the book spines as I walked towards the desk.
This might just be my favorite place. There was a brown leather recliner in one corner. As I got to the dark wooden desk, books and documents were scattered as if Emery was busy. He mentioned that he wanted to write a story about my parents’ explosion. Could it be that?
“That is the story that I was busy with,” I looked up to see Emery standing in the doorway.
“The explosion.” I stated, looking down at the desk again. I tra
