"There were two gloves." I said as his eyes narrowed.
"What?" He asked.
"There were two." I said as I looked back at the box.
"This is only one." I added and the silence returned because now the message felt even stranger.
Someone had taken the pair. Then returned only half. Deliberately and intentionally. As though they wanted me to know they still possessed the other one.
A chill crawled up my spine and I hated it. I hated how calculated it felt. I hated how personal it felt. Most of all, I hated that it involved Uncle Will.
Because everything else I could handle. Threats, intimidation, property damage. Those things made me angry but this made me feel violated.
Uncle Will had been my safe place. My protector. My family. And now somebody was using his memory to get inside my head.
