The main bedroom door was partly open.
Cold white daylight came through the blinds.
Clothing lay scattered across the floor: one of Daniel’s shirts, one of Noah’s sweatshirts, and a blanket folded only halfway.
“Who’s in there?” she asked.
She pushed the door wider.
There were two people in the bed.
Daniel slept on his side, his hair disheveled and his face exhausted.
Curled close against his chest beneath a loosely wrapped sheet was Noah.
Daniel’s arm rested protectively across the young man’s shoulders, as though he believed someone might try to pull him away.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
For one terrible moment, her mind transformed the scene into something monstrous and impossible to describe.
The women’s shoes.
The clothing scattered across the floor.
The two bodies in the bed.
