Timothy arched an eyebrow, staring irritably at the razor in his hand.

"Whatever. I'll just make do."

After Henry got up, father and son sat down together for breakfast.

Henry had barely tasted his chicken noodle soup before he grimaced and called out, "Mom, did you put too much salt in this?"

No answer.

He tried again, a little louder. "Mom?"

Timothy replied calmly, "Stop calling, your mom isn't home."

Immediately, Henry tapped at his smartwatch, trying to call Jessica, but her phone was switched off.

Lowering his voice, Henry said, "Dad, do you think Mom's upset and ran away?"

"She didn't."

With both him and their son at home, Timothy was certain Jessica wouldn't just leave.

"Good. I still think Mom's breakfasts taste better, though."

Neither of them really enjoyed the meal that morning; it just didn't compare to what they were used to.

"Dad, last night Mom made Miss Sheila so mad she left. Is she coming to see me today?"

"She twisted her ankle and is in the hospital. She probably won't be able to visit today."

must really hurt. Dad,

was firm. "No.

head, not daring to push further, and mumbled, "Can I

"That's fine."

his arms around Timothy, standing

After school, come pick me up early, okay? So we can go visit Miss

and stood up,

of the room herself, so it was already spotless. Mabel couldn't understand

the window to let in

was immaculate, she still methodically wiped down

wind

bed, a cancer diagnosis letter was pushed

night before, Jessica had returned to

up the house, the

she finally turned off her phone, wanting nothing

liver cancer, or maybe it was just the relief of having nothing to worry about for

switched her

nonstop with text and

her texts first—several missed calls, some from Timothy,

was probably calling about

past, she'd have called

she just let it

also two bank notifications-Timothy had transferred

a bitter, humorless laugh. He needed her

her two messages-one from the morning, one from a couple hours

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