I gave myself a quick sponge bath in the bathroom. I pulled on a soft cotton gown and headed downstairs. Jason was no longer there.
“Where'd he go?” I muttered.
I stepped outside into the yard and found him on a short wooden bench near the fence. He was flipping a glass bottle over and over in his hand. Not with the careless energy of a game, but with the slow, deliberate motion of a man whose thoughts were far away.
The bottle hit the wood each time he flipped it. His eyes were empty and cold, like the eyes of a man setting a trap.
Eli was across the yard playing. He lined up bottle caps in rows and flicked each with his finger. He grinned up at me and waved. “Mara! Play with me!”
I walked to him. "Sit here," he said, and patted the ground beside him. I sat and looked at the caps o
