Sam had filled in nine boxes on the therapist's chart by the time Caleb came up the walk.
That meant Sam had been at the rubber ball for more than an hour. It also meant Sam was avoiding something, because the Mercers did not avoid by leaving. They avoided by staying in the same room and putting their hands to work until the room gave up first.
"Sit," the mother said, and put a bowl in front of the chair Sam pushed out. She poured tea, then returned to her end of the table with her book. She did not ask how the clinic had gone. She had stopped asking at the door because she had learned that Caleb told the truth more cleanly when nobody pulled it out of him.
Marcus sat by the window with both hands folded over the cane. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. He was doing the thing he did now, saving strength by spending none until the exact second it was needed.
Caleb ate three bites he did not taste. Then he set the spoon down.
