The man came out of the kitchen. I finished my tea and washed the dishes. I cleaned up and put the leftovers in bags. I realized from Cole's conversation with my father that we had a long way to go, so it wouldn't hurt to eat.
My husband didn't come back for a long time, so I decided to go see if he was okay. He looked sickly, in case he'd passed out or needed my help.
The bathroom door was open. There was no one inside, only Cole's neatly folded things lying on the vanity. The glass was fogged up. So he'd already finished packing.
I walked around the second floor. All the doors were locked except one. But I didn't want to look in there, because I remembered my dream too vividly. Or a memory. I called out for Cole, but no one answered. What if he wasn't feeling well after all? I opened
