Chapter One: December
"I feel this 'click' that means everything's in its pleace. It's all where it should be. Total peace."
Henry is there, behind her, folding her fingers over his, lifting the viewfinder to her eye. Letting her guide the pressure of his hands the way she did the paint on the glass wall. And her heart quickens as she lines up a shot of the photos littering the floor, her own bare feet at the bottom of the frame. She holds her breath, and hopes.
A click. A flash.
This time, the picture comes out.
But instead, against all sense, he reached for the bathroom doorknob.
Not wanting to. God, how he did not want to open that door.
His fingers closed around the handle and it turned with a faint click.He released it and let it swing inward.The blonde chick was there.
The rest of her was. Suddenly Fayne dropped to his knees as his stomach gave a sickening lurch and everything he ate last night came surging up. It shot from his mouth in a torrent that splashed everything in the bathroom. Not Chinese food from the Hong Kong Buffet. No solid food at all.
The vomit painted the entire bathroom in dark red.
Some people may opt out. Their child turns out to be whatever it is that they find impossible to face- for some, the wrong religion; for some, the wrong sexuality; for some a drug addict. They close the door. Click. Like in mafia movies: "I have no son. He is dead to me." I have a son and he will never be dead to me.
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