Daniel was still asleep upstairs, breathing heavily the way he had since the accident. My poor husband hardly left bed anymore, and when he did, it was as if he were haunted.
I didn't want to wake him. He barely slept through the night, tormented by guilt and nightmares I couldn't soothe.
I didn't have the strength to talk, so I just sat there, staring out the window into the fog that had settled over the quiet backyard.
Then I heard it.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Then I heard it.
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