A few hours later I awake unrested and sore. The house is still silent, but the living room now fills with sunlight and I figure that’s what woke me up. My body aches from lying on the sofa and my head throbs with a slight pain behind my eye. Same as yesterday, minus the hangover. My mouth feels hot and festering, my tongue stuck to the back of my teeth. When I yawn, my own breath makes me grimace.
I leave the afghan balled up at one end of the sofa and kick through my clothes on my way to the bathroom. It’s next to my parents’ room; their door is partially shut but I can see my dad’s long legs stretched out on the bed. A sliver of fear runs up my spine—it’s too quiet, now that I think about it, and it can’t be but so early, shouldn’t he be up already? Unless…
No.
He is old, I reason, t
