Chapter 7

Dreading the conversation he was about to have, Linus slowly made his way down the stairs where he heard Samson puttering around in the kitchen. For a moment he smiled softly to himself, Samson was his nervous cleaner.

The words he spoke in the park echoed in his skull.

Did he mean them, did he consider them done once and for all?

Linus, like a man walking through quicksand, made his way to the kitchen of his sister’s house. Much as he expected the space was spotless, any evidence of the pizza they’d picked up on their way over had vanished from sight, the leftovers likely on a plate in the fridge. Samson hated takeaway containers. As the thought crossed his mind, Linus’s gaze strayed to the stainless-steel appliances humming quietly. The front was plastered with artwork done by April and proudly put on display by her parents.