Once again, Juno nodded instead of replying, looking around again. There was nothing left of him there; not an ounce of dust, probably not a speck of dead skin, no smells, nothing. It was eerily like Jim had never existed in this house when he had lived here for a good amount of time, across from her a little less but still enough that she had grown accustomed to feeling safe on all sides.
This time, unlike the first time Pam had hugged her, Juno allowed the other woman to do so, and even leaned into it. Pam was right, he felt like he had always been and would always be here. "We were friends," she replied. "Unlikely friends, but I don't know, we got along. You know how Erran was, like, the therapist? I never...well I was resistant to therapy, but Jim acted a lot like my soundboard sometimes, which sounds kind of like therapy."
She sighed deeply. "I don't wanna bother you with this, Pam, I'm just...And Erran's gone and Marco's not taking it well either, then I got here from seeing him and I looked inside and I felt as empty as this fucking room."