I stand in her room, looking around.

It’s sparse; nothing there.

She only has a few belongings as it is and what little she did have is still here. As I rifle through her wardrobe, hoping to find some clue of where she might have gone, I see a small box. I know it’s a wooden box one of the maternal females gave her to keep her things in. I open it, expecting to see some jewelry or the sort like most females have.

Instead, I see small notes scattered in it.

Blinking, I empty the box. ...