David stood in the entryway, still holding the oatmeal he had just packed from the cafeteria.
He thought, perhaps if he went home, back to a familiar environment, she might soften a little.
At least enough to recover her health.
The divorce matter could wait until he returned from this border mission, and then they could talk properly.
He admitted that the suicide note had been the trigger, and the incident in the road had only made things worse, but there were reasons for everything, explanations for everything.
At least, he wanted to explain.
But when he pushed open the door to their home, he was met with deathly silence and a kind of empty, lifeless cold.
The living room looked the same as usual, but at the same time, everything felt wrong.
It was too clean. Clean of any trace o
