The safe house was quiet at oh-nine-twelve.
Caleb had slept four hours on the front-room couch.
For the first two, Aris's body had still been in the room.
Vance came in at oh-seven-thirty and carried him out to the van without waking anyone on purpose. Caleb woke anyway because the air changed when the door opened. It was a small thing, but he had lived too long in places where small changes meant something large had entered or left.
He watched Vance carry him out.
Then he closed his eyes and slept two more hours.
No dreams.
At oh-nine-eleven, he woke with his face against the throw blanket Iris had put over him on Day One.
The blanket smelled like the kitchen tea his mother had been making since oh-seven. It had been on the couch every night since they arrived. At some point, without anyone announcing it, the blanket had become his place in the house.
He sat up.
His ribs were quiet.
