HIS homecoming didn‘t exactly go as planned. For one, Marc‘s phone beeped as they turned into the driveway, the display flashing a 911 text message from Rick. Call me.
Secondly, his mother was sitting on the front steps, skirt tucked around her legs, hands folded in her lap. Her hair had been tied back with a dark purple scarf, though several long strands had come free to blow in the wind. Sawyer didn‘t say a word as he pulled in, but his mouth thinned into a tight line.
Marc kept his