Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

it?”
    “I was waiting for you. Mom called to say you were coming, and I thought…it would be easier with you here.”
    Casey shuddered. She had been alone when she had found Reuben’s stash. She’d been going through the garage, looking for the Pegasus car manual, several months after the accident. She hadn’t thought it had been in the car. If it had been, it had been turned into so much ash. So she checked the cupboards in the garage. She hadn’t found the manual. But she’d found other things. Car parts, of course. Tools. Nails and screws. Old paint. Ratty tennis balls.
    And Reuben’s hiding place. An innocuous five-gallon bucket.
    The first thing she’d seen had been the letters. Shaking, she’d pulled them out, only to find they held her handwriting. She’d gazed at them with disbelief. Every letter—every note —she’d ever written to him. Rubber-banded in a thick stack. Following those were the souvenirs. Ticket stubs, concert programs, take-out menus. And photos. Some photos she’d never seen. Of her, mostly. Photos she hadn’t even known he’d taken. Snapshots of her with Omar. Cooking. Mowing the lawn. Even sleeping.
    And one from before she’d even met him.
    She’d gone cold.
    A photo of her, sitting outside her dojang . She still wore her Dobak, so it must have been between sessions. She sat on the little patch of grass, her legs underneath her in the butterfly position, her face tilted toward the sun. She’d known right away the photo was from before they’d met, because he’d given her a necklace on their first date, the day following the church social where he’d approached her, saying she was meant to be with him. She’d felt the same, and had put on the necklace with the sun charm the moment he’d given it to her, taking it off only in the shower.
    She wasn’t wearing it in the photo.
    Digging deeper into the bucket she’d found other surprises. Photos of an aging couple, their brown skin wrinkled, mouths missing teeth. Other people, all with Reuben’s skin and black hair, but their surroundings of dirt, sun, and adobe huts.
    Letters, all in Spanish. From Mexico.
    Casey had closed the bucket then. Had stumbled back into the house, where Ricky had grabbed her and led her to the couch. Had finally cried the tears that had so far been evasive.
    Reuben’s family was dead. He’d told her so. No parents. No siblings. She was his only family. And then Omar. It was just the three of them—
    “I’m a little afraid of what’s in there,” Eric said.
    Casey swallowed.
    “You’re not going anywhere, right?” His voice shook.
    She hesitated to answer.
    “I mean, right this minute.”
    “No. No, I’m not going anywhere now.”
    “Okay.” He stepped forward, withdrawing the key from his pocket. “Here goes nothing.” He slid the key into the lock, and turned it. The lock popped open. He stood looking at it, his hand on the bottom half, not turning it away. His shoulders went up. Then down. He glanced over his shoulder at Casey. She tried to look encouraging.
    “I wish he’d just open it.”
    Casey shrieked, and jumped away from Death.
    “What?” Eric jerked away from the locker. “What is it?”
    Casey turned away, her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath. “Nothing. It’s fine. I thought…I saw a rat.”
    “A rat? In here?” Eric turned in a circle, hands up and out, as if a rat was going to jump out at him.
    “I was wrong,” Casey said. “There’s no rat. It was, just a…just a shadow. A trick of the light.”
    “Oh. Well.” He put a hand over his heart. “Don’t do that.”
    “Sorry.”
    He shook his head and turned back to the locker. Casey glared at Death, who’d adopted an innocent look and munched on some dark chocolate M&Ms from a king-sized bag.
    Eric squared his shoulders, wrenched the lock from the locker, and flung open the door. They stared.
    Casey stepped closer. “What are they?”
    “I don’t know.” Death peered over her shoulder.
    “I don’t know,” Eric said. “Parts for something.”
    Two little pieces, one white plastic tube-like part with a small metal tab on its flat end, and the other, also of white plastic, that looked like an oversized and flattened nail.
    “Something from the plant?” Casey asked.
    “I would think so.”
    They stared at them some more, until Eric picked them up and pulled them out. He walked with them out to the kitchen and set them on the counter. He turned them this way and that, but