Cynthia Dion:
I stood in the corner of the room, silently observing him as he got ready, charging his phone and stuffing his pockets with cash. I didn't want to get in his way or irritate him. I would be relieved when he left.
"Is the food ready yet?" Mr. Holt inquired while waiting for Charlotte to prepare the lunch box. This time, however, I didn't ask if he was going to the hospital.
"I'll be back home tomorrow night," I overheard him say to Charlotte.
"Can I go home? My father is sick--" Charlotte was outside the room, talking to him while holding the lunch box in her hands.
"Sure, you can," Mr. Holt replied as he approached her, adjusting his belt. While taking the lunch box from her, he brushed his hand against hers.
I observed her lower her head awkwardly and steal glances at
