There were eighteen missed calls on his phone when Lyle finally pressed the button to activate it. Four were from Henry and Mary’s number but the other fourteen were all from Vaughn. His phone had long since run out of message-taking ability and Lyle didn’t bother to check any them. He took a deep breath, pressed the call function, and felt Rafe’s fingers entwine with his own. It was almost two in the morning, but the line was picked up by the second ring.
“Lyle.” There was so much relief in his father’s voice that Lyle’s heart felt like it was going to explode right then and there.
“Dad, I’m coming home.” The small sentence was enough to bring tears to Lyle’s eyes.
Vaughn lowered his voice, and Lyle heard the shuffle of what could have been blankets. “Mary’s dead.”
The cold fingers of
