“Wait. You haven’t heard the whole story yet. So, Molly died on July 4th, 1973. My dad went into the hospital a few more times—but he always came home. Except for that last time. When he died.
“Dad?” Tucker called to his father as he walked in the front door. He’d left him sleeping on the couch and was only gone for fifteen minutes. “Dad!”
Tuck wasn’t in his bed. He hadn’t been in the kitchen at the stove—thank God. Tucker was grateful as he frantically searched the home, hoping he hadn’t wandered outside. No, he told himself, I had to use my key. The door was locked.He checked the bathroom, relieved Tuck hadn’t tried to use the toilet alone and fallen. That relief lasted only a moment as the next door in the line down the hallway, the one that led to the basement, stood wide open. “Dad!” Tucker ran to his father at the bottom of the stairs.