if I came back.
WHAT WAS IN THE BOXES
I spent hours in that storage unit, sitting on the concrete floor, opening labeled boxes like I was digging through the hidden architecture of my own life.
There were business records— clean, organized—showing money leaving accounts in ways that made no sense.
There were property documents with signatures that looked like my father’s… but weren’t.
There were medical records showing my father had been on heavy medication during the dates certain “approvals” were made.
There were email printouts of my father
