And then my dad’s house. I dropped onto my hands and feet the second I was in range, my legs aching.
My bugs swept over the interior. I knew the layout, so it was quick. Dad was in his bed, bundled up in the covers.
Oh, okay, she did arrive at least slightly in time!
He was taking up only one side of the bed, leaving the space that mom had once occupied empty.
Aww.
It was like a punch in the gut, a reminder of how alone he was. How alone I had left him.
Yeeah, the dude doesn’t have much left but his work. And he doesn’t even know why you left, or why you haven’t returned.
Though it is possible he has suspicions. He’s probably given a lot of thought to it, to all the little things you did before you left, and to how exactly you would’ve heard the Slaughterhouse Nine were in town.
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