Chapter 7: The Hall Table

Byron saw the red light a second after I did.

I heard him cross the room in three strides, and I heard the door hit the wall.

"Give it to me."

"Calm down, Ron, it's nothing, it's a."

"Give me the phone."

"I'm just keeping a record. For later. In case you get any ideas about cutting me out."

It was quiet.

I kept my eyes shut and my back to the door, and I heard Denton breathing hard and fast beside the bed.

Then Byron said, very low, "We'll talk in the morning. Go to bed. If I see that phone out again, I'll put it in the lake."

Abel's laugh went away down the hall.

The door closed.

Denton laid his hand over my forehead for a moment, murmured something I did not catch, and left.

Byron stayed an hour in the chair by my bed.

I lay there with my eyes closed and my hand open on the sheet, and he did not take it.

At 2:50, I heard him go to his own room across the hall.

I gave it ten more minutes.

Then I swung my feet to the floor and walked down the stairs in the dark, in my bare feet, in the t-shirt I'd slept in.

The living room was blue with the light of the lake.

Abel was on the couch with his mouth open, one arm hanging off the cushion, snoring.

His phone lay on his chest, face up, rising and falling with his breath.

I stood over him for a long time.

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