I GOT SERIOUSLY ILL OUT OF NOWHERE

you to go through my personal things.”

Her eyes flash with something—annoyance? Fear?—but she quickly hides it. “I was trying to help.”

I nod slowly. “Where’s my son?”

She hesitates. “He’s… busy. Work’s been crazy. You know how it is.”

No. I don’t.

He always called. Always checked in. Even when he was swamped.

I move back to the spare room and point to the continue reading …