them comfortable. Now we find out what else they were comfortable enough to do.”
I didn’t sleep. At three in the morning, Danielle called. I let it ring. At 3:12, Michael called. At 3:40, my mother left a voicemail that began with crying and ended with, “You’re killing your father.” At 4:05, my father sent one text.
Come home, and I’ll explain why we continue reading …
