In the center sat one folding chair.
And one enormous box.
Erica’s voice came from behind Craig’s phone.
“See? She left us something.”
She sounded almost relieved.
“Air mattresses, probably.”
She cut through the tape.
Opened the first box.
Saw the second.
Her smile vanished.
She opened that one too.
Then the third.
By the fifth box, people had stopped talking. The room had gone quiet except for the tearing of tape and the rustle of cardboard.
By the seventh, Erica was ripping tape hard enough to shake the folding chair.
She reached the eighth box.