Kyra POV
As soon as I wake up, I can feel something is wrong. There's a darkness in the air—something foreboding that makes a chill run down my spine as I climb out of bed—even though the house is not cold. I find him sitting on the couch in the living room. The television is off. There's no music playing.
And that's very unlike him, because sound is his passion. He's staring at the floor and doesn't even seem to notice that I've walked into the room.
"Dad?" I say tentatively, afraid to jolt him out of the trance he appears to be in.
His head raises unnaturally slowly, and he starts to tremble. This is it, I think to myself. Mom is really gone. She's no longer lingering between life and death, holding us as emotional hostages in her limbo. It's over.
I run across the hardwood floors a
