It didn’t matter how many times I read over that meaningless decimal. I couldn't make any sense of it. With a sigh, I redirected my curiosity towards the corner. “Why’s my name on it?”

She just shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you might know.”

“No. I have no clue.”

Even though I was really trying my best to recall something he might have told me, nothing came up. This decimal didn't mean anything to me. More importantly, what was it doing stuck inside a pen? Why did it have my name in the corner? “Can I keep this?” I asked her as she nodded. “Maybe it's for me?”

“That's what I was thinking.” She tried to drink from her cup. “C-can I have some more?”

“Sure.” I took the cup from her.

I held the paper tightly in my hand. Why’d he stick this inside of a pen? What did the decimal mean? Somehow it felt like he was alive again. I could hear him, though distant, telling me to figure it out. That it had a meaning. I was inclined to believe that.

When I returned to the living room, Malory was looking through her phone. “Do you have any idea what this could mean?” I handed her the cup.

She shook her head. “No. I have no idea.”

“Well,” I read the slip “it's 43.026616… a math equation?”

“I don't think so.” Malory got off her couch to lean against the armrest of the chair I was on. “Maybe its a measurement?”

“You think this is a measurement? For what?”

“I don't know. Cooking? Maybe he was planning on making you something for Valentine's day.”

I frowned at the sheet of paper. “Then where's the rest of the recipe? And why put it in a pen?”

“Uh…”

I brainstormed. “Maybe this isn't all of them.”

“What, like he has other papers hidden around the house?”

“Yeah.”

She sat up straight. Her brows furrowed while her lips remained listless. “Okay, but why?”

“I don't know.”

“Then how do you know there are more?”

“I don't.” All I wanted was to know what it meant. It was all I had left of him.

“Maybe there are more in his room,” Malory suggested. “I can look.”

“Great.” I reached for my phone. “Here, I'll give you my number.”

“Okay.”

As we exchanged numbers, my mind couldn't help but wonder. I couldn't shut off the sleuth, I never knew I had, inside me. I compared every real-life example of decimals I learned from math class with what was written on the paper. Whatever it was, be it a recipe or equation, I needed to know. I intended to find out.

Malory got up from the chair. “By the way… don't come to the house. Mom is still kind of upset.” Instead of fighting her on that one, I just nodded. His mother could think what she wanted of me. After all... “I'll see you later.”

I nodded and saw her out.

As soon as she was skipping down the street I ran upstairs for my bedroom. I laid flat on my back on the bed, just pondering. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again it was dark outside.

I sat up. The house was sound as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. My eyes felt heavy and a bit irritated. I might have been crying again, though I wasn’t entirely sure. I notice the driveway light on, and the distinct sound of a car engine turning off.

My heart raced a little bit as I heard a soft crunch of snow outside. Soon there was a shadow at the window of the door. My body moved backward on its own and I felt a bit frozen as the mysterious figure played with the door handle.

The door creaked open.

My hand gripped the handle of one of the kitchen knives we had. I was prepared to lunge at the intruder. Just as I was about to, the light flickered on.

I froze again. A woman dressed in a bright red dress, hair a mess, and smeared makeup painted her pale face, stared back at me. Eyes wide.

“Mom?”