I lifted Daniel out of the highchair and sat him on the kitchen counter as I wiped cereal from his head. He squirmed, trying to get down on the floor.
“Hold on there, Dan. I’ll be done in a minute.”
It was a bad job, but we finished up with more cereal on the towel and in the sink than on Daniel, so I set him free. He walked over to a toy that jangled when he pounded on it, and happily sang to himself while he played with it.
Someone knocked on the door to the apartment and opened it a few inches. It was Greg.
“I’m headed back to Hazelton. Are you staying here?”
I nodded, “Yeah. And I’ll call in tomorrow. Thanks for everything, Greg.”
“Sure thing. I’ll let you know what develops. I’m sure there will be questions about what you remember, but that can wait. Marylena will be sticking around if you need anything. Get some rest. You look like hell.” He shut the door and I heard his footsteps on the worn boards of the balcony.
I dropped into a kitchen chair and put my head down on my arm, the one that was not encased in plaster. A black feeling of dread closed in on me and sank through to the bone. My ears were ringing and I realized that it was not Daniel’s toy or the telephone. It was inside my own head. My fingernails dug into the vinyl of the table top. My eyes burned. The world blurred.
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