Behind the Wall

A mechanical timer sat on a shelf beside a bundle of letters. The former owner had built it to remind his wife to take her medicine. After her death, he had kept winding it. A small solar motor now turned its key each morning. The letters belonged to their daughter, who lived overseas. Imani called the estate agent and asked him to contact her. She left the table untouched. For the first time since entering the house, the silence felt like somebody's private room rather than a puzzle.