unwitting look of joyâthis is what Kyung realizes he has to preserve, what he wasnât mindful of in the car. Four is too young an age to learn what people can do to each other.
Tim joins them, dressed in uniform but holding a can of beer. Gillian gives him a peck on the cheek. âWould you mind taking Ethan outside while Kyung and I talk to Dad?â
âI go on duty at noon, but Iâve got a little time.â He extends a gigantic hand, swallowing Ethanâs small one in his. âYou want to see the birdâs nest in the backyard?â
âAre there eggs?â
Tim downs the rest of his can and crushes it as he leads Ethan away. âMaybe. Letâs go see.â
Kyung is aware that Connie and Gillian are waiting for him to say something, but heâs too distracted by his surroundings. Thereâs an empty bag of potato chips on the matted brown carpet, an uncapped jar of salsa on the table, and dozens of old magazines on the coffee table, all coming loose from their bindings. The messiness of the room reminds him where Gillian gets her housekeeping habits. The McFaddens arenât poor anymore, not like they used to be, but they live as if their situation hasnât changed. With their salaries, Connie and Tim could easily afford to tear down the wood paneling, repaint the walls, buy some new furniture that actually fits. They could even hire a cleaning lady to pick up after them once or twice a week, but thatâs not the kind of people they are.
âKyung wants to apologize for this morning,â Gillian finally says.
âForget it.â Connie sits in his chair, pushing on the armrests until it reclines. âYou want a seat?â He looks at Kyung and motions to the other chair.
The recliner sinks like a sponge when he lowers himself into the well-worn groove formed by Timâs ass. Heâs never sat in his chair before, never been invited to, but he recognizes the offer as a gesture.
âI was hoping to be there when my mother gave her statement.â
âYou didnât miss much. Same story we heard from your dad last night, more or less.â
âOh.â He glances at Gillian, not sure what to say or do next. He doesnât mind asking for her help, but itâs still a stretch to ask for Connieâs.
âDad,â Gillian says, resting her hand on his shoulder. âWould you mind telling us what you do know?â
Connie shifts uncomfortably in his seat. âNone of itâs good.â
âWe could have guessed that,â she says.
This is the problem with being in the dark. All he does is guess. Kyung keeps seeing the Perrys hitting his mother, violating her over and over again like a film reel set to loop. The truth might be worse than his imagination, but knowing what happened has to be better than this.
âIâd appreciate itâ¦,â he says. âIâd appreciate it if you could just tell me what you heard, from my parents or Lentz or whoever. And donât leave out any details for my sake. Tell me like youâd tell someone you work with.â
âItâs on the news. Have you noticed?â
âWe just drove by the house. Reporters everywhere.â
âAny of them try calling you yet?â
Kyung shakes his head. âWeâre unlisted.â
âItâs a big deal, a home invasion in this area. Thirty-three years Iâve been on the force, and nothing like this has ever happened before.â
âBut what happened, exactly?â Gillian asks. âHow did those men even get in the house?â
Tim streaks past the living room window with Ethan on his shoulders. Theyâre both carrying oversized wands that release giant bubbles into the air. Kyung jumps out of his seat and stands in front of the window, wondering if Tim notices the tree branches, how their sharp tips hang just inches above Ethanâs face. Ethan, however, doesnât seem to mind. His head is
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