Chapter 13

Only it wasn’t home, not really. He hadn’t had a real home for a very long time.

It might be Daniel’s home but it had really never been his. People said, “Home is where the heart is,” yet he wasn’t even sure he had a heart anymore to be the focal point for a home. How badly and frequently broken could it be and still survive, still exist?

On the edge of depression, he chained the bike to the porch rail and went inside.

The house seemed very quiet. Where was Daniel? He walked around and finally dared to peek into the study. Daniel sat at his desk, not in his usual chair, but at the desk, bent over a spread of tarot cards. He jumped when Rob stubbed his toe on a wrinkle in the old carpet and made a scuffing sound.

“Robbie. I didn’t hear you come in. It can’t be that late already.”

“About the usual time,” Rob replied.