Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see?

Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see?

CALLUM

“That’s beautiful.”

I didn’t even realize my mother had come back until I heard her voice again beside me.

It had been a long day. Longer than most, and I was so tired. Or maybe I just wasn’t really here enough to notice anything.

But those 14 words from Este’s, were the only thing I could fully register.

I hope one day you’ll land where it’s safe to love again.

Could I even do that, though?

Have I already?

My thoughts went to Oddie. About how the way she—and I let herself in without meaning to.

Was that what Este meant?

Was this… loving again?

“Mmhm,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the crane that was now unfolded in my hand.

“Nih, Cal,” my mom said as she scooted a little closer. I noticed that she’s holding a worn out book.

It was a photo album. Or a photo book, to say the least, given how thin and frayed it is.

I didn’t remember I packed those from my home to here. I figured my mother kept it. Maybe it’s her wedding albums. No… that would’ve been thicker. This one felt personal. Maybe it was filled with pictures of me as a baby or when I was a kid. But even that didn’t make total sense. I didn’t grow up loving cameras. I didn’t have many friends to take photos with either, since I went to one of those Montessori kindergartens—the kind where kids of all ages were thrown into the same room. Three, four, five, six. We built blocks, took naps, shared crayons. Maybe that’s how some memories slipped in.

Still, most of my childhood felt like a blur—except for the part where I’d always run home right after school, straight into my parents’ arms. School never really made the good memories.

“Album?” I asked, squinting a little at the cover.

She gave me a nod, smiling gently.