Fletcher slouched his rucksack off his shoulder onto the carpeted floor as he entered the brightly lit foyer a week later and closed the front door. “Mum, Dad, I’m home.”
“I’m in here, hun,” Vera called from her bedroom.
He ran his hand through his hair and crossed the sitting room to his parents’ bedroom.
She opened her arms wide for a hug. “How was your week?”
Fletcher stepped backward after their embrace. “Tedious. Getting our gear inventoried and separated was a drag. Where’s Dad? The pub?”
Vera took a deep inhale and studied her hands as she wrung them. “At church. He had an … incident.”
“Is he okay?” Fletcher sat on his parents’ bed.
She eyed him with a desperate expression. “Physically? Better. Mentally and emotionally? No.”
“What do you mean, better physically?”
“The schoo
