ow came two

d. My phone rang. It was the building manager from the South Congr

your things. Ms. Chadwick's repres

sick feeling g

movers were carrying my recording equipment out to the curb.

e. He was wearing one of my band's t-shirts, the fabric

ual. "Jocelyn's moving me in. Just

dio monitors with the t

ssed. She looked right through me. "Caleb is

begged, my voice crac

t redecorating. This apartment is mine. Your thing

er voice devoid of any emotio

to a pile of my clothes. My personal belongings, memories of

oorway of what used to be my home. "Don't worry, baby," he said, loud

surrounded by the wreckage of m

te insult. He wasn't just taking my fiancée and my home. He

my belongings. He call

the songs I'd written for her, the future I th

replace the pain. I wo

ists, my knuckl

e closed door, my voice low and steady

s, piece by piece, my mind al