He knew my voice instantly.
“Hi! You okay?”
“I need help.”
“Tonight,” he promised.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
At dinner, I set five forks on the table. The doorbell rang.
“Help is coming,” I said, opening the door.
Caleb stepped inside, carrying a bag of tools.
Ryan’s shoulders tensed. “Caleb?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“Oh, yes. He’s staying for a couple of weeks. To help me recover. To fix things.”
Caleb walked straight to the closet door that hadn’t closed in months.
He pulled it once, studied the hinge.
“Twenty minutes.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Lily blinked. Linda’s mouth tightened. Ryan’s face flushed.
“Make yourself at home,” I told Caleb.
He did. And for the first time in weeks, the house seemed to breathe differently, like it was finally listening to me again. Caleb moved through the rooms like a quiet river, his steps steady, his hands sure.
