Page 27 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

Patty shouted once, but Roger’s and Ash’s voices stayed
low. Greta expected something more, like furniture being
tossed or full-on wrestling. Ash came back after a few
minutes, some tension gone from his face.
“Dad knows it all. It’s in his hands now,” Ash said.
The bedroom door next to them slammed, and then
Patty started screaming about his children being killers and
maniacs. This time Roger shouted back, maybe at seeing

the candle and ashes: What right did she have to destroy
something that wasn’t hers? She’d gone too far. Tell her, Dad.
Then Patty accused him of loving his dead wife more than
her. Damn straight. Roger went on for a while about that not
being true. Puke. After that their voices dropped low. Greta
crept out once to use the bathroom but couldn’t hear them
anymore. Their light was still shining under the door.

Ash sat on the end of her bed and listened until Roger
and Patty went quiet, the veins pulsing in his neck. When he
stood to leave, Greta asked, “Ash, can you stay?” Even with
her, Ash so easily became a shadow. “Please.”
He paused for a second and then nodded. After making
a trip for blankets and a pillow, Ash brought back a package
of Patty’s favorite cookies, which they were never allowed
to touch.
“Eat up.” He dropped them on her bed.

They ate every cookie. Ash smiled while he chewed,
like he was personally swallowing all of Patty’s hopes and
dreams. Then came the wait. It felt like the time their mom
had a biopsy on her tumor and they had to wait for results.

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