You’re wondering about the box. Well, join the club. Not everything that is slightly out of the ordinary is my doing. Although I see why you’d think that. I’ve been focused on that box too. That and the look on A’s face when he came here to confront me. If I could distill that panic, I’d gladly drink it down like champagne.

To answer your question, no, I did not put the box there. I did not know that such a thing even existed. He was as good at hiding those memories from himself as he was at hiding them from me. I do see that the evidence against me is damning, but I had several plans of how I could further entrap him. None of those were reliant upon something perfect falling right into my lap. You’ll just have to believe me. And it goes without saying, but no reason to let A in on any of this.

Memory is a tricky thing. We discuss it like it’s a large receptacle, holding everything that we remember. Leaks might happen, nothing is perfect after all. But we delude ourselves about how structurally sound it is so we that don’t wind up going crazy. Then we have moments like this, where we realize that the receptacle isn’t just filled with holes, it’s much worse. The walls of this vase or basin are made of the same material that it’s meant to hold. It’s a concoction that’s alarmingly unstable, and malleable to any type of influence.

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And yet, despite how fragile it may seem, it can leave behind unseen threads. We weave them into our lives without realizing. Perhaps that’s why I did feel a connection toward that box, despite not recognizing the contents after it was opened. I remembered them at the same time that A did. Maybe I was pulled along by one of these unseen threads. Something that had grown so foreign to A, but it called out to me.

Apologies for the tangent, but I do have lots of time to sit around and think. As much time as I have spent wondering how and why this little box was removed from our memory, I have spent far more time trying to figure out how I can use it. I’m already starting with the advantage here. No need to find ways to get him interested in this. I heard the urgency in his voice, and I know that he’s too curious to let it go.

He's also scared, which means that I need to tread lightly. A wounded animal is the most dangerous to approach. Especially if your intention is to deliver the final blow.