Chapter 4
Frank
Though it had grown dark and the bugs attracted by the porch light had started to hassle him, Frank didn’t move from where he sat on the catatonia center’s porch swing. This was his home; the center felt more like home to Frank than that sad, little apartment he’d rented ever would. He stared up into the dark branches of the giant tree in the front yard of the center. Clarity had climbed that tree countless times as a child, crawled out on its branches, and then dropped down into the elementary school playground next door. She called it her short cut and always took it, whether she was dressed in an outfit suitable for tree climbing or not—usually not—even though just walking to the gate would actually have taken less time.
His fingers explored the chipped-paint-surface
