I Came Home From Okinawa To A Sold Sign On My Lawn

and questionable stains on the carpet.

Caleb was in room 214. I knew he would be. He was never good at hiding.

I knocked. He opened the door a crack, saw it was me, and tried to slam it shut. I put my boot in the way.

“We need to talk, Caleb,” I said, my voice low.

He was a mess. Unshaven, red-eyed. Wearing the same clothes from two days ago, including continue reading …