Chapter 114

Charles looked…small. Shrunken. His shoulders sagged as if they weighed too much, his neck slumped. His hair was mostly gone, victim to chemo and radiotherapy. The little that was left was clumpy and patchy and far more salt than pepper. His skin was sallow and hung loose on his frame, and deep purple hollows underlined his eyes.

The eyes themselves, though—they were sharper than Andy had expected to find them, watching Andy intently as he made himself take another step into the room. “Dad,” he said, and stopped. What else was there to say? I’m home? That was bullshit. I’m sorry you’re dying? I’m notsorry you’re dying? Those were both true, in their way, but saying them wouldn’t do anyone any good. You can’t hurt me anymore, was the refrain that throbbed behind Andy’s temples. Had been repeating, over and over, since he’d gotten that letter.