I keep going.
Faster now, and with less hesitation.
Until the pile is real.
Then grab my phone.
Scroll.
Scroll.
Scroll.
I look at every photo from the Evan era.
Smiling versions of me I barely recognize.
I highlight them all.
Hover for half a second.
Then hit delete.
The screen clears.
Poof. They’re gone. Just like that.
It feels oddly freeing.
That’s when I hear footsteps on the front porch.
“Knock knock.”
Ivy’s voice filters through the screen door.
“Hey, Auntie Cassie! I brought you some cherry pie. Thought you might be hungry.”
I look up and smile, softer this time.
“Aww. You didn’t have to.”
“Well, just wanted to thank you for watching the kids last weekend.”
She lets herself in, already peeking around.
“What’s all this?” she asks, eyeing the boxes.
“Old stuff,” I say. “Figured it was time.”
Her eyes land on the pile, and the paper I taped to it, appropriately labeled “burn pile.”
She nods slowly.
“Ah,” she says. “A perfectly normal Tuesday night activity.”
I shrug. “I don’t know about the new yet, but tonight the theme is ‘out with the old.’”
She heads into the kitchen, setting the pie down.
