Morning came.
I didn't move.
The light came in through the gap in the curtains and travelled slowly across the wall. I watched it and stayed exactly where I was.
At some point, Lia got up and moved around the room. She went out and came back and put a bowl of soup on the nightstand. I didn't touch it. I couldn’t eat.
She came back later, took the bowl away, and replaced it with something else and didn't say a word.
~0~
The second day was worse.
On the first day, I'd had the shock to hide behind. That blank feeling of something being absorbed too much too quickly.
On the second day, the shock wore off, and there was nothing left between me and it.
My father was alive.
My father had been alive for two years. He had been in that room, behind that glass, while I had been in his apa
