Where did you get that ring

me. The faint shadows under her eyes. The thinness in her wrists. A bruise half-hidden beneath the sleeve of her pajamas.

“Why is she afraid of you?” I asked.

Kate laughed. It was short, brittle, practiced. “Afraid? She’s not afraid. She’s dramatic. Daniel, you’ve been gone for days. You don’t know what I deal with.”

From upstairs came a cough.

Not a cry.continue reading …