EPISODE 10: THE ADDRESS ## CHAPTER 1: COURT OF BOXES The smell of old wood and dry dust settles in the back corners of the hall closet, smelling vaguely like mothballs and whatever kind of pine cleaner my mother used when I was small. Dolly slips under the dresser skirt before the scent even reaches her, an orange-gray ribbon disappearing into the cool shadows. I scrape a fingernail against the edge of Jacob’s desk drawer. It resists the movement slightly, caught in some unseen sliver of jammed metal. The drawer is heavy oak, stained dark and smelling faintly of pencil graphite, which has been permanently absorbed by time and neglect. I have kept it for three years now, a piece of furniture that feels more like an archive than actual storage. I lift the drawer out just enough to slide my forearm into the gap, dusting off the accumulated film of Johns Island grit and coastal humidity. Inside are small things: ticket stubs from festivals I never attended with him, dried-out markers in plastic containers, a half-written poem about oyster beds that never sees sunlight, and an index card stack organized by date—dates marking nothing specific. Just there to show the passage of time, I suppose. I pull out the contents entirely onto my lap, careful not to disturb...