“Or you won’t graduate,” I said firmly. It was a useless threat. He had made it clear he wanted to drop out on many occasions. I think I would have preferred that argument. Unfortunately, he just didn’t have it in him to argue with me about it tonight.
Instead, Logan slunk down the short hallway and opened the door to the boys’ bedroom.
“Night, Lo. I love you,” I said hopefully.
“Love you, Krissy,” he muttered.
I ducked into the bathroom and slipped into my shorts and t-shirt, brushed my teeth, and splashed some water on my face. My skincare routine—a washcloth and generic bar soap—would have sent Hannah Jane into a maelstrom had she known.
I poked my head into Zoey and Kylie’s room.
Zoey was curled up in her tiny toddler bed, sound asleep. I pressed a kiss to her head and pulled the blanket back over her. Floppy, her beloved stuffed bunny, was on the floor beside her. I picked him up and tucked him in her tiny arms.
Kylie was in bed, but her eyes were open.
“Need anything?” I asked in a whisper.
She shook her head.
“Love you, Ky.”
“Night, Kris.”
Kylie was less forthcoming with I love you’s than even Logan was. Then again, I didn’t blame her. She’d grown accustomed to people disappointing her, and it was just easier if she didn’t get attached.
Kylie and I were peas in a pod that way.
The light in the boy’s room was still on, so I knocked softly before letting myself in. “Y’all good?”
Logan’s eyes barely flitted up from his phone.
Hunter looked up from his book. “Can we go to the library tomorrow? I’m almost out.”
The kid was a voracious reader. Lately, he had been hooked on a series about a teenage boy recruited to be a spy for MI6. I had fiction writers to thank for Hunter’s optimism. Books gave him an escape from reality, and I would do everything in my power to keep him hungry for more.
I smiled sadly. “I have to work tomorrow, but we’ll go soon.”
Lights off and doors locked, I went back to the living room and crashed on the couch. I barely had the blanket over me before my mind went black.
4
WILLIAM
The noisy rumble of the housekeeping cart carried into my room as it rolled down the hallway. It came to a stop in front of the room before mine. I smiled as I listened to Kristin’s three-rap knock, the cheerful way she announced herself, and the rhythmic opening and closing of doors. She had her job down to a science. The way she cleaned was methodical.
I was ready for her today.
The door to the room next to mine slammed shut. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Huh, it only took her nineteen minutes to turn that one over.
The squeaky cart rolled to a stop outside my door, followed by an unusually long pause—as if she needed to compose herself.
Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping!”
“Come on in!” I hollered from my spot at the desk.
The door beeped and clicked as she let herself in, propping the door wide open.
“Good morning, Mr. Solomon,” Kristin said pleasantly. Her bright tone seemed at odds with the dark circles under her eyes.