Starter
Billy attempted to blow his bangs out of his eyes—he really needed to get a trim—as he flipped through the latest issue of Batman and Robin. The rest of his weekly pull lay in a pile next to him on the bed.
A gust of wind from the open window brushed the corners of the issue just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Billy put the issue back on the stack and fished out his phone. It was Kate. <Is Teddy there?> Scowling, Billy sent a rapid-fire text back. <I didn’t hear him come in. I thought he was with you.>
Three days ago, she’d sent him a rather odd text, asking if he’d told Teddy about his “suicidal tendencies.” He’d seen no reason to do so—it wasn’t even relevant anymore, now that Mother was gone, so why bother? She seemed somewhat satisfied, if troubled, with the response, and reminded him for the tenth time that she was there if he needed to talk. They’d settled into their normal perpetual-texting routine shortly after, but for some reason, that last text sent a wave of dread crashing over him. He set down his phone and scowled.
There was a knock on the door.
