A Father’s Return. A Mother’s Nightmare. A Family’s Final Stand

was sitting at the kitchen island, holding Leo in her arms. The baby was quiet now, his skin cool, his small hand wrapped around her thumb as he drank from a clean, glass bottle. The sun through the new ballistic window hit the table, casting a long, golden bar across the clean floorboards where Eleanor’s robe had lain three weeks ago.

I didn’t take continue reading …