Chapter Six
Trent sat on the sofa in the living room with a lowball glass clutched between his fingertips. Golden whisky swished between the rocks as he lifted it to his lips. He drank deeply and lowered it again, tasting the alcohol on the back of his tongue, the burn warming the inside lining of his mouth.
The house was empty for now. Adalia had gone to the hospital to be with Isaac. She was there most days, sitting with him, checking in with doctors. His son was due to come home sometime this week, but it was still up in the air.
The test results had been positive and they wanted to keep his son, for observation. Every bit of what they had left had gone to hospital fees.
And now it’d come to this.
Trent leaned forward, angling himself so he could read the headlines of the newspaper
