Upon opening the door, I found that my room had turned into a baby's room, with baby clothes hanging in the wardrobe.
"Mom, where are my clothes?"
My mom hesitated and said, "Your...your clothes...have been thrown away."
"Thrown away?"
I shivered. It had only been four years since I left home. There was no trace of me left in the house.
The family photo that used to hang in the living room had been replaced with a new one they had taken.
My mom forced a smile and quickly said, "Julia, get Linda’s clothes and get changed. We'll go buy clothes when the snow stops."
Linda said, "Don't wear mine. I am in a special period. My clothes can't be worn casually, especially by someone who just got out of prison."
"Am I supposed to be chilling all the time?"
I looked at Linda and then at my mother.
Neither of them spoke. Dead silence prevailed.
Gradually, I was disappointed.
In prison, I had fantasized countless times about the scene of being reunited with my family. Now that the day had come, it was different from what I had imagined.
"Where am I going to stay?" I was the first to break the silence.
My mother rubbed her hands. She wanted to say something, but she hesitated.