Miguel didn't want to believe his family was gone. He sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands, refusing to look at the empty darkness, to listen to the unfamiliar quiet. He heard Manuel moving about, caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of his eye as his brother found the flashlight, but remained where he was, an unwilling participant in what was turning out to be the worst day of his life.
Manuel came back after a short search, the light in his hand distorting his features and making him look monstrous. "No one is here," he said in his deep, gravel-rubbed voice.
"You don't think I know that?" Miguel snapped at him, finding his feet and his heart again only because his brother offered a target for his anger and fear. "You don't think that much is obvious?"
Manuel remained sil
