River
His house was dark as River walked inside, dropping his car keys in a bowl by the door. He stood still for a moment, listening. He heard a faint, slow heartbeat coming from the kitchen and realized his mother was sitting in the dark in the other room. He headed that direction, crossing through the foyer, living area, and dining room before he saw her, sitting in the nook, staring out at the window, a cup of tea on the table in front of her. No steam rose from the cup, so he could only imagine how old it was. He doubted she’d finished it.
She knew he was there, too. “You’re finally home,” she said, her tone melancholy. “I was getting worried.”
“Sorry, Mom,” he said, not sure whether he should pull out a chair and talk to her or just run upstairs and bury himself beneath his blankets. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”