The 6 a.m. alarm shredded Tam’s sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he forced himself out of his sleeping bag to get ready for school. Mom’s bedroom was ominously quiet and dark, and the Bug slept soundly, despite Tam’s rattling around in the kitchen.
T“Mom?” He tapped on her door. “Should I get Peter up?”
She preferred that Tam use his little brother’s name, though the Bug didn’t much seem to care. He probably liked thinking of himself as a bug—in all senses of the word.
Tam heard the rustle of covers, and then his mom cracked the door open. Her eyes were hollow and haunted, her hair tangled about her face.
“I’ll make him breakfast,” she said softly, tying the belt of her tattered bathrobe.
“Don’t forget to eat something, too,” he said.
He brushed a kiss over her forehead and swallowed the ple
