Chapter 4
Being as quiet as I could, I crept down the hall to the kitchen.
It was Saturday morning and I didn’t want to wake Jack. He worked so hard during the week and needed his rest. But when I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see him standing at the window, cup of tea in hand. He turned to look at me, and at the sight of his tense face and troubled expression, I froze up.
“Hey,” I said, entering the kitchen, but staying by the table. Something was wrong. Jack looked like he hadn’t slept much. His dark hair was unusually ruffled and his eyes were a little glassy, as though maybe he’d cried? “I didn’t hear you get up,” I sputtered, not knowing what else to say.
Jack put his cup on the cluttered table. He’d been reading the Saturday paper and its pages were fanned over the
