Chapter 9Yannick was still counting the rice when Lee finally came home midmorning.
He was about half done. He should have been finished, but he’d kept nodding off and losing count. He was so tired the rice had blurred into a nebulous mass, and his head ached so badly he could barely open his eyes. All he wanted in the whole world was a cool, dark place to sleep. He would’ve curled up under the kitchen table and been grateful for it. But with the irony of illness and obsession, he was both too exhausted and in too much pain to finish counting, and too exhausted and in too much pain to find the will to stop.
By the time he heard the garage opening, Yannick was swaying in his chair, just holding on to the table to keep from keeling over.
“Yannick!”
“Please,” he slurred as Lee ran into th
