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Hank pulled up to the curb, the car groaning softly as it settled. He checked his watch, squinting at the numbers in the fading light. Too long. He had been gone too long. The sun was dipping behind the skeletal arms of the trees in the distance, bleeding red and orange across the horizon. Mary would be wondering where he was.

Or worse, she wouldn’t be wondering at all.

That thought gnawed at him, the way it had been lately. She kept falling asleep at odd times, her energy drained like an old battery that could never quite hold a charge. Last night, he had found her curled up on the couch in front of the TV, the blue glow flickering across her face. No blanket. No pillow. Just small and still, like a bird caught in a cold wind. He had covered her, but she hadn’t stirred. That wasn’t like Mary.