” My voice came out as barely a whisper. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“Okay?” He laughed, a sound like breaking glass. “Does this house look okay to you? It’s filthy! There are dishes in the sink from last night. The floor needs mopping. And my parents—” He paused, his face contorting with rage. “My parents are awake. They’re hungry. And where continue reading …
