The house felt oddly quiet the second the door shut. Brian stood there for a moment with Cooper pressed against his leg, staring at the old player. Rain tapped softly against the kitchen window. The overhead light hummed. On the table, the photographs and letters looked even stranger now, as though they had brought a different atmosphere in with them from the yard.
He told himself he would wait. Instead, he picked up the cassette. The label was still damp in places despite the plastic wrapping it had been stored in. For Jamie. The handwriting was careful, almost neat, which somehow made it feel more personal than if it had been rushed. Brian slid the tape into the player and lowered the lid.