"Careless boy... He didn't even lock the door." Aunt Mimi twisted the doorknob and stepped inside. I followed her silently, my eyes lowered, barely registering the pale yellow wallpaper covering the hallway we walked through.
"John," Aunt Mimi called out, her voice ringing sharply.

There was no response.

As we moved toward the living room, I half-expected to see John lounging in his favorite armchair. Usually, he'd be there with his long legs dangling, half-swinging off one armrest, engrossed in a Just William comic. But today, the room was empty.

"He's probably sulking in his room," Aunt Mimi muttered, glancing over at me.

"Why would he be sulking?" I asked, frowning in surprise.

"Do you know he writes poetry?"

I nodded, caught off guard. "Yes, I've seen some of it. He's got real talent."

I had been a privileged listener of many of John's poems. They often left me unsettled, tinged with his signature mix of cynical humor and biting insight. Yet, they were fascinating. His ability to capture fragments of imagination and set them into colorful words amazed me.

Aunt Mimi, however, shrugged indifferently. "Well, I was cleaning his room today, and I..." She hesitated, then continued briskly, "I didn't feel the need to keep them."

My hand flew to my mouth in shock. "Oh, Aunt Mimi! You didn't!"

"I did," she said, not meeting my eyes. "It's not like poetry is going to help him make a living."

"These poems meant more than you can imagine. You shouldn't have thrown them away!"

Aunt Mimi frowned. "Come on, Lucinda, writing poetry won't put food on the table."

I bit my lip. "I know, Aunt Mimi, but it helps him escape. He needs it."

She sighed, her stern expression softening slightly. "Music and poetry are for dreamers, Lucinda. Life is about having a proper profession, something reliable. You work as a bookkeeper at Deloitte—you understand what I mean."

I was surprised she even knew about my job. There was care beneath her brusque exterior, after all.

"Yes, Aunt Mimi. I do," I murmured, though we both knew she wouldn't truly understand.

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination, Lucy.
A smile touched my lips, recalling one of John's favorite lines. He always had a way of distilling truth into something whimsical.
John... Mimi wasn't ready to grasp the truth in your words yet.

"How are you feeling, Lucinda?" Aunt Mimi's voice broke into my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

"I'm fine, Aunt Mimi," I lied, though only partially. I felt better than I had, thanks to her, but my heart still raced, my head pounded, and my stomach twisted with unease.

Aunt Mimi walked closer, placing her hands on my shoulders. "You'll be fine, Lucinda. You're strong. You'll be fine."

"Th... Thank you, Aunt Mimi."

"I couldn't have done this without you," I added, surprising myself with the warmth of my words. On impulse, I leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

Aunt Mimi blinked in surprise, her stern façade wavering. "Oh, Lucinda dear..." She paused, composing herself. "Let's not be sentimental here, all right?" But the small, tender smile on her lips betrayed her.

★★★★  

Aunt Mimi pushed John's door open abruptly.

"John, you've got—"

"Bugger off, Mimi! Leave me alone!"

There he was, sprawled on his bed with his legs stretched awkwardly against the wall. A cigarette dangled from his hand as he read, his head buried in a book by Dylan Thomas—one of his favorite poets.

Without warning, Aunt Mimi stormed in and snatched the cigarette from his hand.

"How dare you smoke in here!"

"Ouch! You burnt me, Mimi!" John shot up, sitting upright and glaring at her, still facing away from me.

"Serves you right! You're not allowed to smoke in this house, understood?"

"This is my room, Mimi! I'll do as I damn well please. And maybe knock next time—you know, like a civilized person."

"Oh, I'll teach you about manners, John Winston Lennon!"

John opened his mouth to snap back, but Aunt Mimi cut him off. "I didn't come to argue with you, John. I'm here for your friend."

"Who?" he snapped, still not noticing me.

"Lucinda..."

John whipped around, finally catching sight of me. His face softened into surprise.

"Lucy...?"

I offered him a smile, though tears pricked at my eyes. I wasn't sure how to begin.

John stared at me for a moment, then leaped off the bed and crossed the room in a few quick strides. He pulled me into a tight embrace, surprising me with his intensity.

"Hey, you genius misunderstood," I whispered, trying to lighten the mood, though my voice cracked.

"Hey... You're crying." He looked alarmed, brushing away my tears gently.

"I'm sorry. Just... unwanted tears." I managed a small smile.

"Lucy, what's going on?" His tone softened, but concern furrowed his brow. "Why are you crying?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to tell him the truth. "I just... I wanted to see you. That's all."

John frowned, clearly sensing the lie. Before he could press further, Aunt Mimi spoke up.

"She needs to talk to you, John."

He glanced between us, his worry deepening. "About what? Is it serious? Are you ill?" He rested the back of his hand against my forehead.

"I'm fine, John," I whispered, though my voice was strained.

"You don't look fine." His concern was growing, and I hated seeing him like this because of me.

Aunt Mimi laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Lucinda."

I gave her a thankful nod, grateful for her quiet strength.

John's voice broke the moment. "Lucy, tell me what happened." He was growing impatient, his voice rising slightly.

I couldn't meet his eyes. I couldn't find the words.

"Mimi, do you know what happened?" John's voice wavered. He was losing his calm.

Aunt Mimi shook her head softly. "No, John. She didn't tell me."

"Where did you find her?" His eyes were fixed on me, but it was clear he needed someone else to explain—because I couldn't.

"Behind the wall across the street," Aunt Mimi hesitated. She looked at me, seeking permission to continue. I gave her a small nod.

"She wasn't... well, John."

John's eyes darted between us, disbelief clouding his face. He seemed unable to grasp what Aunt Mimi had just said. Silence fell over the room, thick and heavy.

Finally, Aunt Mimi stood up. "I've got some errands to run. I'll leave you two." She brushed past, pausing briefly to pat my shoulder. "Take care of her, John. She needs you."

With that, she left us alone.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I collapsed into John's arms, shaking violently as sobs wracked my body. He stiffened for a moment, startled, but then his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. His warmth, his steady presence—everything I'd needed.