Then his voice returned.

Calm.

Controlled.

Dangerously calm.

“I’m coming.”

The call ended.

I didn’t sleep.

Instead, I cleaned.

I cooked.

I thought.

By four in the morning, bacon sizzled in a skillet.

Eggs sat warming in the oven.

Fresh biscuits cooled on the counter.

Coffee filled the kitchen with a rich aroma.

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